Star Wars: Mysteries of the Forerunner
by Don113
Summary: xover with Clone Wars. The Master Chief is recovered by Omega Squad and the UNSC, allies against the CIS, to go on a mission to a Forerunner planet.
1. Chapter 1: Battle of Jabiim

Chapter One: Battle of Jabiim

**0400 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Firebase Alpha, 405****th**** UNSCDF Marine Corp**

**Muster Point Alpha, Merdon River,**

**Jabiimi Theater of Operations **

_Yes, this is my first time working with them. All I've heard are rumors that they had just won a war four years ago by the skin of their teeth. It is cruel of the CIS to drag them into another war by attacking their colonies when they're still dealing with trillions of casualties. I only hope that, when this war is over, the vicious cycle of violence will stop._

**General Tur-Mukan to General Camas.**

General Etain Tur-Mukan stared out at the rain-drenched plains. Her mind was elsewhere; her baby boy was somewhere out there in the galaxy, under the wing of Kal Skirata. There was never a moment when she didn't think of her son…or his father. Yet here she was, fighting on a planet that had been taken by the Separatists. The Republic had wanted to abandon it. Their allies, the UNSC, had other ideas. Apart from being extremely experienced, the UNSC had survived a thirty year war against their present allies the Covenant and had a reputation for coming up with unorthodox but extremely effective tactics, despite their continued use of technology that was, by galactic standards, very primitive.

It was Etain's first time fighting with them. Commander Gett, Improcco Company and several other companies of the 41st Elite Legion, had hooked up with the United Nations Space Command Defense Force's 405th Marines to perform an amphibious assault on the Jabiimi capital city of Choal, across the Merdon River.

A Marine wearing glasses ducked into the command tent. His shoulder pauldron was dabbed with blue, and although blue meant 'lieutenant' in the GAR, in the UNSC it meant 'major'. This was Major Allen Bradshaw. He wiped his glasses off and saluted. "You asked for me, ma'am?" His accent sounded Coruscanti, but thicker and more deep. Another Marine had informed her that Bradshaw was 'British', whatever that meant.

"Yes," said Etain, trying to slip into officer mode. "I did." She felt him through the Force. Although he appeared young, this man had seen more war than she had in a lifetime. The Force revealed deep pains and sorrows underneath his apparently relaxed façade. "I wanted to know the latest on the enemy positions."

"Uh, yes ma'am." He called up a holo map. "There are anti-air batteries here, here and here, covering most of the airspace above the city and the beaches. The 105th ODSTs will drop in an hour ahead to neutralize those batteries, as well as the heavy mortars that are covering the beach head. If those triple-A's are neutralized, Hornet attack craft will provide air cover. Our first objective is to clear a path for the tanks; get rid of the beach obstructions. Then we neutralize the pillboxes covering the beach, or else they'll piss some bloody bad news on our heads. After that, we secure the beach head, fortify our positions, and set up a supply train."

"You make it sound easy."

The man seemed to smile. "It always does sound like that, doesn't it? Never talks about what a bleeding mess it is. Oh: all of the defenders are natives, by the way. No bloody annoying robots—"

"Droids."

"Droids, then. If you need frigate support, the _Iwo Jima_ is ready to respond with MAC support."

"MAC?" Etain had to ask.

"Magnetic Accelerator Cannon," said Bradshaw. "Packs one hell of a punch."

Etain shook her head. "It sounds like a lot of destruction to me."

Bradshaw's smile disappeared. "It is. But its nothing compared to what I've seen in my lifetime." He looked at his chrono. "Gear up, ma'am. If you'd take my advice, I'd leave that heavy weapon you keep lugging around, and take something else."

"Someone I admire very much persuaded me to keep a Trandoshan LJ-50. I haven't regretted it."

Bradshaw scrutinized the conc rifle leaning against a table in the back. "Maybe, but it'll just slow you down and make you a lovely target for a sniper. And my orders are to keep you alive, so I have a problem with that."

"Alright," sighed Etain. "What do you suggest I take?"

Bradshaw shrugged. "I'd give you my BR55, but since you're not familiar with UNSC weapons, I'd suggest you take one of your Republic DC-15S carbines. Compact and effective."

Etain smiled. "I wonder, what would you use if I took your rifle?"

The Major smiled and, reaching over his shoulder, produced a large weapon with a distinctive muzzle shroud and an electric ammo counter. "This baby. Its called the MA5C. Can't tell you how many times she's saved my a…uh, life."

"Do you always talk about kit, Major?"

Bradshaw's smile vanished once again. "It keeps my mind off…other things." He turned to exit the tent.

"Major!" said Etain. "Major, where will I be during the assault?"

"No more than three yards from me," said Bradshaw, "and that's not negotiable."

000

**0412 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Unknown System (Location Classified—ONI X-ray directive)**

Niner crept through the undergrowth, silent and deadly. Although his HUD had their positions tagged, he didn't need to know that Fi was on point, Darman was on his right or that Atin was guarding his six. Omega Squad had done this so many times, it was as natural to them as blinking.

Their objective was to find the crashed aft section of a UNSC frigate. Niner had no idea why they needed to find it, only that the UNSC's black ops branch, the Office of Naval Intelligence, had leaned on the Grand Army of the Republic to find it. And with the help of the Null ARC Kom'rk, they had. ONI had immediately recorded and erased every record pertaining to the planet in GAR databases and sent the Venator-Class vessel _RSD Dauntless_ on a preset course, navigated by one of their AI. The AI's name was Morgana, and her chosen form appeared to be a human woman in simple dress. Niner had thought she was a person contacting them via holo link, but then he had noticed the lines of code running along her entire surface.

"How much farther?" Niner asked.

"_Not too far,"_ whispered Morgana. _"The signal is weak—to be expected, I guess—but it's still clear enough. It should be in visual range now."_

Right then, Fi said, "Hey Sarge! I think we've found our wreck."

Niner ran up to join Fi. He found himself standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking a small valley. The forest below had a large black gash torn into it, and at the end of that gash was a chunk of metal. Niner zoomed in and made out six characters in white on the tortured surface:

**FFG-201**

Morgana, it appeared, was watching through Niner's HUD feed. _"_Forward Unto Dawn_, Hull Classification: FFG-201. We've found our missing ship. Well done, Omega. Your next objective is to enter the ship and find the cryo chamber. Be advised that _RSD Dauntless_ has detected signals matching those of Loyalist Remnant vessels. Be quick about it."_

"Affirmative, ma'am," replied Niner. "Omega lead out."

"What's up, Sarge?" asked Atin.

"We've got to get in that wreck and find a cryo chamber before hostiles arrive."

"A cryo chamber?" said Darman. "I thought this was a vital equipment retrieval op."

"_Who said it isn't?"_ said Morgana. _"Get a move on; my calculations indicate that you'll need at least an hour to reach the wreck, and we don't have that much time before the Loyalist Remnant gets here."_

"You heard the fake lady," said Niner. "Let's move out."

000

**0515 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Able Company 1****st**** Platoon Amphibious Lander, 405****th**** UNSCDF Marine Corp,**

**Enroute to primary landing site (CODENAME: HARVEST)**

**Jabiimi Theater of Operations **

Etain was glad she was wearing body armor under her Jedi robes, although it didn't make her waterproof. The landing craft bounced up and down in the choppy water, and many of the Marines in the boat were already green in the face. Major Bradshaw stood on her left, clutching his Battle Rifle. It wasn't usual for such a high ranking officer to accompany the main assault. In fact, it was against every rule in the book. But Bradshaw had insisted that, by that logic, Etain shouldn't be going either, so she bent to his request.

To her right stood her good friend from Improcco Company, Sergeant Clanky, and his squad of four elite clone troopers. The other troopers under her command were spread across the assault boats behind them and on either side. There were hundreds of them, and they were rather large targets. The Mammoth-Class Amphibious Lander was a water-borne variant of the huge 'Behemoth' recovery vehicle. The once Etain was on contained twenty UNSC Marines and six clone troopers, not including herself and the Major. Everyone was carrying a lot of kit, like extra rockets, heavy machine guns, flamethrowers and even some Covenant tech like deployable cover and ONI equipment like the Bubble Shield, not to mention extra ammo and their own weapons. There was barely enough room to move.

She heard distant pops. The Major looked at her and said, "The ODSTs are engaging. We're close now. We'll have to prepare for artillery fire."

"Artillery?" said Etain, shouting over the roar of the water. "I thought you said those guns would be neutralized."

"Always prepare for the worst," Bradshaw replied. His suspicions were confirmed as something whistled past their boat and exploded in the water behind them, creating a huge plume of water that splashed over Etain.

"It seems the worst has happened," said Etain.

Bradshaw seemed unperturbed. "And we're going to 'happen' right back." He clicked his COM on and shouted, "Prepare for landing!"

000

**0517 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Unknown System (Location Classified—ONI X-ray directive)**

Niner shoved the piece of paneling out of the way, revealing another sign in peeling paint:

**CRYO **

"This is it," he said. "Darman, set a charge on that door. Minimal force only."

"Yes Sarge." Darman tinkered with the pressure door for a while, and them motioned everyone to get back. The thermite burned through the metal, and Fi kicked the door open.

This room had the only working computers that Niner had seen so far, something he thought remarkable considering that this was half a ship. They indicated only one occupied cryo tube, and Niner wasted no time. He spotted it immediately, covered in a thin layer of frost. He wiped it off, and Omega gazed at the occupant.

"Fierfek," said Fi. Niner had to agree.

It was at least two meters tall, clad in scarred, battered, bulky green armor that seemed even more advanced than their own Mk III Katarn armor. A golden visor covered his face, and he seemed almost…peaceful. He looked like a demi-god.

"Morgana," said Niner, "what…_who_ is this?"

"_That,"_ said Morgana triumphantly, _"is a Spartan."_

00000


	2. Chapter 2: Reveille

Chapter 2: Reveille

**0517 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Able Company 1****st**** Platoon Amphibious Lander, 405****th**** UNSCDF Marine Corp,**

**Primary landing site (CODENAME: HARVEST)**

**Jabiimi Theater of Operations**

"Clear the ramp!" shouted the helmsman. "Thirty seconds!"

"Move fast, stay low and find cover!" shouted Major Bradshaw. "Clear the mortar holes and spread out! Remember, five men is a juicy target; one is a waste of ammo! Stay clear of open beach, and keep the sand out of your weapons. Keep those actions clear! I'll see you on the beach!"

Etain pondered the Major's line, 'five men is a juicy target, one is a waste of ammo'. Then she realized he was saying that they shouldn't group together, or they'd be a ripe target for the defending gunners. The enemy mortar rounds were coming in faster now, and water kept splashing over the side of the boat. She couldn't see anything but sky above, soldiers on all sides, and the olive-green inside of the ramp. She could hear men praying, her clone troopers silently reciting 'Vode An' and she realized she'd never been so scared in her life. She looked at the Major, and he mouthed 'stay close; it'll be alright'. Then the boat crunched onto something, the ramp lowered, and all hell broke loose.

Deadly red bolts flew with chilling accuracy inside the boat. Marines were cut down swiftly. Those that could jumped into the water. Everyone else was killed.

The Major shoved her forward into the water, cursing as he followed her in. "Sandbar," he shouted. "We hit a bloody sandbar! We're too far from shore!"

Etain saw he was right. The Mammoth-Class Amphibious Lander was behind them, grounded on a barely submerged spit of sand. The water between that sandbar and the beach was becoming a killzone.

"Move forward!" shouted Bradshaw. "Lay down suppressive fire!"

Heavy machine guns mounted on the landing craft sprayed the enemy positions with hails of lead, but at this distance they were far too inaccurate to hit anything. The enemy gunners did slow their fire, however, reflexively ducking from the Marine fire, allowing the remnants of Able Company 1st Platoon to run up to the shingle, where a permacrete barrier prevented any further advance. Many Marines and clone troopers were already gathered there. Etain ran to join them, batting aside blaster bolts with her lightsaber in one hand, firing the DC-15S wildly with the other, and trying to ignore the bodies of Marines and clone troopers littering her path. She saw a patch of blue on a Marine's shoulder pauldron, and sat next to the Major with her back to the barrier. With relief, she saw Clanky and his squad joined her seconds later, hugging the ground. That relief was immediately swallowed by horror as she spotted a young Marine, barely eighteen, clutching his stomach and screaming for his mother. He raised one hand in agony, and she could see his smoldering entrails.

She gagged and looked away, but the image was still burned into her memory. She looked at the Major, who was shouting at Clanky for an assessment.

"We've got the remainders of Able Company, Dog Company and Fox Company, sir!" shouted Clanky. "Some clone troopers too!"

A Marine next to Etain was shouting at the Jabiimi Seperatists, saying, "You fucking cock-suckers! You fucking cowards! I swear I'll rip your guts out!" Then he crumpled into a heap, and started sobbing.

It was more terrible than she had ever imagined. Clones screamed, clones died, but they never broke down. This was too raw.

The Major noticed too; Etain could feel his anguish in the Force as he saw his men die by the dozens, but he continued to issue orders. Some Marines slapped on some plastic explosive on the barrier. Others inserted detonators. Them the Major shouted "Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole!" and threw himself across her, hissing, "Get down!"

There was a blast of thunder.

000

**0520 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Unknown System (Location Classified—ONI X-ray directive)**

While Etain was on Jabiim, witnessing horrors, Niner was witnessing something amazing. Morgana had told them how to revive the Spartan, and the super-soldier was thawing out. It moved slightly as it woke, and then the cryo tube's hatch hissed open. The soldier climbed out.

The Master Chief swayed a bit, trying to stand up. The last thing he remembered was hanging on for dear life as the frigate transitioned…and was sheared in half. Then Cortana's voice guiding him to the—

"Cortana!"

There was a shout from someone who was clearly startled and saying obscenities, and the Master Chief made out fuzzy images of men in black armor. The fog cleared, and he saw four glowing blue T's staring back at him. He immediately went into a defensive pose, but they didn't do anything. "Identify yourselves," growled the Chief. Were they some new kind of Covenant? What happened to Earth? Who had won in the end?

"Sir, Commando of the Grand Army of the Republic RC-1309. We're allies. We came here on a rescue op."

"Grand Army?" repeated the Chief. "What Grand Army?"

"With all due respect, sir, we can explain that later. Covenant Loyalist Remnant forces are en route to this planet. They've already engaged our ship."

The Master Chief was still confused, but willing to comply…for now. "Affirmative. I need a weapon, and an AI."

"The AI Morgana is on _RSD Dauntless _sir."

"No," said the Chief, "I'm talking about Cortana." He accessed the nearest computer console and typed commands furiously. As he did, he noticed the date read: 7/14/2557. Had it really been five years since the escape from Installation 00? "Damn it, Cortana, where are you?"

The holographic emitters sputtered briefly, and as Niner watched, the blue light they emitted took the form of a blue human female. Like Morgana, code ran down the length of her 'body' like water. She brushed aside a strand of her 'hair' and said, "You're a deep sleeper, John."

000

**0517 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Able Company 1****st**** Platoon, 405****th**** UNSCDF Marine Corp,**

**Primary landing site (CODENAME: HARVEST)**

**Jabiimi Theater of Operations**

Etain regained consciousness five seconds after the blast had subsided. She saw Clanky peek over the rim of the crater caused by the explosion. He ducked for a second as a blaster bolt whistled past his head, then looked again.

"Defilade up to the bunker, sir!" he shouted.

"Move! Move!" shouted Major Bradshaw. Clones and Marines jumped into the crater and made for the base of the bunker that was firing on the landing parties. They were in the open, but the detonations had filled the area with smoke and dust, completely cloaking their movements from the Seperatist gunners.

Bradshaw had lost his Battle Rifle; Etain could see him clutching his MA5C. He peeked around the edge of the bunker, to try and spot the gun emplacements, but a stray bolt forced him to pull his head back. He had, however, seen all that he needed to.

"One heavy gun," he said. "That's all that's protecting their left flank. Franklin, Sean, James: grab some cover, and put some fire on that crew. Clanky, you and your squad get ready to go when I give the order."

"Yes sir," said Clanky. He scrambled to his feet and beckoned his squad to do the same.

"Wait for my signal," said Bradshaw.

Etain felt helpless. Everything depended on the Major's tactics and a rag-tag group of soldiers. All she could do was crouch next to him, clutch her weapons, and hope she got through this alive.

"Covering fire!" shouted Bradshaw.

A hail of blue blaster bolts and bullets rained on the enemy emplacement. The enemy ducked, the enemy fire slowed.

"Go! Go!"

Clanky and the other clone troopers ran for the trench that the gunners were guarding. They disappeared for a few agonizing seconds, then Etain heard him say, _"Objective reached, sir."_

"Good," said the Major. "Stay put for now."

He repeated the process a few more time until only Etain, a few Marines, and himself were left. Then he got up, reloaded his rifle, and Etain realized that she was going into the gap as well. "Are you serious?" she shouted above the gunfire. "We'll be killed!"

"I know," said the Major through gritted teeth, "but until the armor reaches the beach I can't bloody well do anything else, can I?"

Just as he said so, there was a roar louder than the now-ambient gunfire. Seconds later, the gun emplacement that had been giving them so much trouble exploded. Etain snapped a look behind, towards the source of their salvation, and spotted a huge form emerging from the dust clouds, sporting four treads…and a _really_ big gun.

"Well," said Etain, "there's your armor."

"Scorpions," said Bradshaw, smiling broadly. "Hello, ladies."

The first Scorpion tank rumbled forward, followed by three others. Turrets swiveled and fired, and gun emplacements that had been causing so much hell disappeared, hit by 90mm tank rounds.

However, the bunker that Etain and the Major were standing under resisted every blast. Red bolts flew from the narrow slit, cutting down Marines and clones alike, forcing them to take cover.

"This bunker," said Bradshaw slowly, "is really starting to _piss me off_!!" He readied his rifle. "Come on General. With that emplacement down, we should reach the bunker entrance easy. In fact, our path shall be strewn with roses."

Etain frowned. _Not roses…although the coloring is similar_. "I very much doubt that."

"Me too. Let's move out."

000

**0530 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Unknown System (Location Classified—ONI X-ray directive)**

The Master Chief wrenched open a weapons locker, and was pleased to find an MA5C Assault Rifle with extra ammo. He rummaged through the others, and retrieved an M6G pistol, two grenades, and a special treat.

"What's that?" said Niner.

Cortana answered for the Chief. "That is the Weapon/Anti-Vehicle Model 6 Grindell/Galileian Nonlinear Rifle, also called the Spartan Laser."

"You hold this," said the Chief, shoving it into Fi's hands. "I can't carry a lot of weapons; it'll slow me down."

Fi hefted the weapon. "It's so…so…"

"Heavy?" ventured Darman.

"Cumbersome?" guessed Atin.

"…beautiful," Fi finished. "A true work of art!"

"Stow it, soldier," growled the Chief. "Sergeant, lead the way."

They waded back through the jungle towards the rendezvous point, making good time, when Cortana whispered in his ear. "I've been in contact with AI Morgana. She's new on the block, but she knows her stuff. Apparently our efforts paid off, and we won the war."

"That's good."

Cortana paused, considering that understatement of such an important victory. "Yes it is. Unfortunately, we got pulled into the conflict of another part of the galaxy." She outlaid the events of the Clone Wars quickly.

"I see," said the Chief. He glanced at the soldiers with him. "So these are really clones?"

"Yes. Almost 99.7 percent of the Grand Army of the Republic consists of clone soldiers, the rest being non-clone officers and Jedi."

"What about our armed forces? What's our status?"

"Considering the fact that it's been four years since the war ended, we're doing pretty well. In fact," she said, "the Navy is considered second only to the Republic's, in terms of ships and technology. The ground forces have been totally revitalized as well. Since we've joined the war on the Republic's side, the CIS have been forced to retreat on almost every front."

"So what's the problem here?"

"It seems that, though the Covenant Loyalists were defeated, the Covenant Seperatists were not successful in putting them out of fighting capacity. A Loyalist Remnant force has landed."

"What for?"

Cortana paused for dramatic effect. "To make sure you and I don't get off this planet alive. Just like we remembered them; primitive and vengeful."

"Good times," he replied. He stopped suddenly; Niner had his fist up and clenched, the universal military gesture for 'halt and get down'.

"Five enemy contacts at the RV point," said Niner. "Two Chopper-Class attack vehicles as well. Shall we engage?"

The Chief considered. They could simply pass the Brutes and get off the planet without even alerting them. But he had been in cryo storage for five years. He needed to get back into fighting ability, and there was no better way to do that than fighting. "Affirmative." He recalled their odd call-signs. "Atin, set your sniper sights on the Brute Chieftain. He'll be the one with the prominent headdress and the big hammer. Fi, target those Choppers with the Laser. Make sure they're down. Niner and I will then engage the remaining five Brutes. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" It was a perfect chorus.

"Commence on my mark." He crept towards the Brutes in the clearing, careful not to alert them. Niner was doing an excellent job of not being seen, too. They seemed rather effective for clones. He readied his rifle, clicked his COM, and said, "Mark!"

A blue beam of energy like a Covenant beam-rifle cut through the air and hit the Chieftain full in the face, downing his energy shield. Another two beams followed, and the Chieftain crumpled to the ground. The Brutes reacted too slow for Fi, who quickly took out one Chopper, then the other. It all happened in the space of seven seconds.

Fi whistled. "I'm in love with this thing."

"Let's go, Sergeant," said the Chief. He jumped out of his cover, and began firing.

The Brutes were too startled at first to do anything; here was the dreaded Demon, the Prophets'-Bane, the World-Ender, that had disappeared mysteriously shortly before they had been defeated. Now he was back as if from the dead, hungry for Brute blood.

One Brute got a mouthful of 7.62mm rounds into his gaping jaws for his lack of reaction time. The others finally fired back but the metal shards fired by their Spikers simply glanced off the Chief's shields. Another Brute was cut down by a hail of blue blaster bolts from Niner's DC-17. Only two Brutes were left, and Niner and the Chief each took one for their own.

The Chief's Brute dropped his weapon and charged madly. The Spartan fired, but the MA5C's bolt snapped back; it was empty. With no time to reload, the Spartan simply sidestepped the Brute's reckless charge and whacked him in the back of the head with the empty rifle. The Brute recovered quickly and charged him again. This time the Chief sidestepped _and_ grabbed one of the Spike grenades dangling from the Brute's belt. He followed up with a straight kick. It would have killed any normal man, but not a Brute. Nevertheless, it stumbled a few paces back…and the Master Chief chucked the Spike grenade at the alien's face.

The grenade's blades embedded into the Brute's face, and the alien only had time to wail for one second before the grenade exploded and turned his head into mush.

The Chief turned to find and help Niner, only to find that the Republic Commando needed no help at all. The clone sidestepped his enemy's charge like the Chief did, but he leapt onto the alien's back, ejected a gauntlet-mounted knife, and cut the Brute's throat. The Brute jerked as its blood drenched the ground, then lay still as Niner emptied his clip into him.

"All hostiles eliminated," said Niner. "Nice job, sir."

"Well done, Omega," replied the Chief.

"No problem, Chief," said Fi. "We do this all the time."

"You do, huh?"

"You have no idea," said Atin.

An odd looking vessel dropped out of the sky, hovering above the ground. The Chief had it immediately in his gunsights, but Niner said, "Hold your fire, chief. That's an LAAT/i gunship. A larty. Isn't she beautiful?"

When the Chief didn't reply, Fi said, "It _is _an acquired taste for outsiders, sir. Don't worry; she flies like a dream."

The Chief nodded. He wondered why the designers exposed the side gunners so much, but he didn't care as long as it took him off this planet. "Let's go."

"Shame," said Cortana. "I was starting to like this place."

000

**0624 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Firebase Bravo, 405****th**** UNSCDF Marine Corp,**

**Primary landing site (CODENAME: HARVEST)**

**Jabiimi Theater of Operations**

Etain looked out at the field of bodies littering the beach. Ever since they had taken the city (it had fallen after the beach head defenses collapsed), the reinforcements and the POWs were on funeral detail, taking the bodies of men from each army, separating them from the others, marking their names or their numbers for future reference. It was a grim job.

Major Bradshaw patted her on the arm. "It never gets any easier. You'll always be affected by all the death around you. But you can't let it affect your judgment."

Etain could only nod.

Bradshaw steered her away. "Let's go somewhere else; I've made you some coffee. You'll feel somewhat better."

As Etain sipped the beverage, Bradshaw took out a data pad. "You've been ordered to return to Coruscant. Mandatory officer leave. They started it after the top UNSC brass blasted your superiors for not giving you guys shore leave. You're to go directly to UNSCDF HQ to make your report, and then to the Jedi Temple to repeat the process."

"I got it," said Etain. She was not terribly excited about the prospect of shore leave; it meant being away from the men she commanded…although Bradshaw issued most of the commands.

"A Pelican's arrived to take you to the frigate _Aegis Fate_. You'd better get your gear and get moving. The ship's commander is Adrianna Keyes. She's about your age. You'll get to like her, I think."

"Thank you, Major," said Etain. "I'm sure Commander Keyes and I will get along just fine."

Bradshaw nodded.

"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

Bradshaw nodded slower this time, looking wary.

"Why are you in so much mental anguish? So much pain? It resonates in the Force so powerfully."

Bradshaw fiddled with his rifle, and Etain was suddenly reminded of Darman; it was a habit of his as well. "Well…During the Covenant War, about seven years back when I was only a Second Lieutenant, the Covenant glassed my home planet, Coral. My wife and son were still on the surface. She was nine months pregnant with my second child. She would have been named Alice, that baby. Just like that, I lost my entire family."

Etain was shocked. She had been taken away from her family, but she was only a baby at the time. This man's family was taken away from _him_. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. As long as I remember them, they're still alive in a way."

Etain pondered the Major's last statement as she bade the 405th and Improcco Company good-bye and climbed into the Pelican. There were still those honored dead that she remembered: Master Fulier and all the soldiers she had fought with. She would keep their memory alive as long as she breathed.

000

**0647 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

_**UNS Aegis Fate**_** (FFG-307)**

**Jabiimi Theater of Operations**

Commander Adrianna Keyes was, like Major Bradshaw had said, at least around Etain's age. She had jet-black hair that she had tied into a tight bun, leaving a few strands on either side to frame her face. She was also pretty; the male crew members seemed to be trying their best not to look at her too much. When she saw Etain she smiled, but she was surrounded by a whirlwind of sorrow, much like the Major had.

"Welcome aboard the _Aegis Fate_, ma'am," she said. "With your permission, I would like to move out of the system immediately."

"Granted," said Etain, surprised at how military she sounded.

Before the crew had started anything, the crewman at the COM station said, "Commander Keyes, ma'am! Encrypted GAR transmission."

"Patch it through."

What came through was something everyone in the GAR dreaded. _"This is _RSD Dauntless_: Red Zero, Red Zero, Red Zero."_

"The message just repeats, ma'am," said the crewman.

"Shall we respond, ma'am?" asked Keyes, looking at Etain.

"Absolutely," said Etain. She would have responded to any Red Zero distress call, but this one was even more important to her.

Her husband was on that ship.

00000

**A/N: I hope you liked the Brute battle. I wanted to have the Chief take 'em on single handedly, but I though that would be stupid, leaving out good ol' Omega. And yes, Adrianna Keyes is related to the other Keyes. I must say, this latest story of mine is getting more positive reviews than my other stories.**


	3. Chapter 3: Priority Shift

**A/N: WARNING! SPOILERS FROM HALO 3!**

Chapter 3: Priority Shift

**0708 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Unknown System (Location Classified—ONI X-ray directive)**

_RSD Dauntless_ was one of the new Venator-Class Star Destroyers that had rolled out of the Kuat Drive Yards. Clocking in at 1,137 meters in length, and bristling with weaponry, ships of her class easily outclassed other ships in the Republic and the UNSC Navy's destroyers and frigates, outmatched only by the UNSC Dreadnaught-Class and Marathon-Class cruisers. However, neither the Marathon-Class cruiser nor the mighty Dreadnaught could go one-on-one with a Covenant Assault Carrier, a behemoth 5,346 meters long armed with deadly pulse lasers, plasma torpedoes and a powerful Energy Projector.

In about an hour of combat, the _Dauntless_ had been reduced to a shadow of its former pride, limping on an out-system vector, trailing fire and debris from a dozen hull breaches. The Brute-controlled Assault Cruiser lazily followed, playing around with its prey. It too had been damaged, and the Brute captain was frustrated by the loss of his energy projector. But he still had enough weaponry to turn the _Dauntless_ into a cloud of molten metal.

Then, some live prey distracted him from the wounded beast.

_Aegis Fate _exited Slipspace in a burst of Cherenkov radiation. Three consecutive MAC rounds fired by the frigate's brand-new cannon damaged the Loyalist vessel's shields enough to chase it away for the time being.

"Contact the _Dauntless_," said Commander Keyes. "Let's see who's still alive."

"They're responding, ma'am," said a crewman.

Instead of a Republic officer, however, the image of a giant in green armor appeared, next to a Republic Commando. In the background, multiple consoles were sputtering, and three other RCs were at the few working stations. Etain heard Keyes inhale sharply.

"_This is the Master Chief Spartan-117, reporting."_

Keyes looked frozen. She stared at the man who called himself 'Master Chief' as if she had seen a ghost.

"Commander?" said Etain softly. "Are you alright?"

Keyes nearly jumped. "Y-Yes." She cleared her throat. "Give me a sitrep, Spartan."

Etain wondered why Keyes hadn't stated who she was, but she was distracted by the green giant's report. He looked like a droid, although he certainly didn't _sound_ like one.

"_Most personnel are either dead, wounded or missing, ma'am. Two DBY-827 heavy turrets operational. Sixteen proton torpedoes remaining. Main reactor has been disabled. Hull structure has been compromised. Orders?"_

Before either Etain or Keyes had said anything, additional Covenant vessels appeared in system: nine CCS-Class cruisers, accompanied by another assault carrier. They were painted in green, contrasting sharply with the silver-blue of the Brute controlled vessel. Their lateral lines heated, and several plasma torpedoes swarmed towards the Brute carrier. The Brute vessel's shields flashed away, and its armor melted away as well, exposing dozens of decks. Explosions chained up and down the carrier. The newcomers, however, were not satisfied, and they pummeled the Brute vessel until nothing was left.

A message piped through, and Etain recoiled instinctively; this was the first time she had ever seen a Sangheili native…or as they were more commonly known, 'Elites'.

This particular Elite seemed to be missing two of his four mandibles; Etain could see him massaging two stubs on the left side of his face. When he spoke, it sounded disturbingly human. _"This is Fleet Master Rtas 'Vadum, commander of the First Sangheilian Fleet. This system is no longer safe for the Republic and its allies. Leave immediately before additional heretic vessels arrive."_

Commander Keyes looked at Etain. "His rank is roughly equivalent to something higher than Vice Admiral. He outranks you, ma'am."

Etain nodded slowly. "I—yes, we'll leave as soon as we have extracted survivors from the _Dauntless_."

"_Do so quickly, human child. I am not known for my patience, and neither are the Brutes."_ The channel cut out.

Etain bristled at the way the Elite had treated her, but she had better things to do. Urgent things. "Evac everyone from that ship immediately, Commander."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

"_Ma'am," _said the Master Chief, _"This vessel is still capable of a slip—sorry, hyperspace jump. We can jump to another system and then transfer the wounded."_

Etain didn't want to listen to that. She wanted to see Darman. She _needed_ to see Darman. But there were more enemy ships arriving, and _Aegis Fate_ simply did not have enough the time or the personnel to tend to the wounded. "Alright, we'll have it your way…Master Chief."

000

**1456 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

_**UNSC Event Horizon**_** (ONI Stealth Vessel)**

**Unknown System (ONI S3 designation: Necropolis System)**

Commander Allan Kurosawa stared at the surface of the planet his superiors had called Necropolis. It was a fitting name. From this altitude, it looked like any habitable Earth-like world. A closer inspection revealed otherwise. It was an utterly deserted Forerunner planet, stumbled upon simultaneously by a Republic Navy task force and a UNSC research vessel under ONI's jurisdiction.

After the initial squabble over who would send a team to the surface and who would back off, the two groups eventually reached an agreement to send a mixed team to the surface. The team consisted of a set of ARC troopers under the command of a Captain Ordo and a ONI team consisting of the a few of the remainders of Spartan-III Gamma Company under the command of the recently found Lieutenant Commander Randall-148, a Spartan-II who was the only known survivor of Gray Team.

They had landed over an hour ago, but aside from a brief communication confirming landfall, there had been no further transmissions. Half an hour after the group, designated Allied Intelligence Group-Able, had gone missing, the cruiser _Road to Voi_ had landed three full companies of ODSTs, followed in by two GAR companies of the 134th Legion from the Acclamator-Class ship _RAS Bel'reen_.

They had gone missing as well.

Commander Kurosawa was very worried. Forerunner constructs had a habit of concealing dark, deadly secrets, and only God knew what had happened to those men. Worse still, Loyalist Remnant and CIS activity in the nearby area had increased significantly.

As the ranking officer in the UNSC task force and the designated commander of both task forces, Kurosawa had to make a decision. He could either nuke and/or glass Necropolis and the men they had sent down there and pretend nothing had happened. He could send more men down to the surface. Both choices were too difficult to choose, and although he quickly dismissed the first option from his mind, the second had no guarantee that it would work. Bottom line: Kurosawa had no idea what to do. There was only one person he could trust to make a suitable choice.

"COM officer," said Kurosawa, "Get the _Thermopylae_ on the horn. On the double."

000

**1600 hrs, July 14****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Republic Fleet Operations HQ **

**Ord Mantell**

_Aegis Fate _landed gracefully on the landing strip near HQ. Etain got out and immediately looked for and found the tower of smoke in the distance that was the grave marker of _RSD Dauntless_. She nearly panicked at first. Was Darman alright? Did anyone survive? Did the strange green giant save them?

Then, she made out black specks in the distance, specks that grew larger by the second and resolved into the familiar profile of LAAT/c gunships. Within minutes, they had landed next to _Aegis Fate_, and out poured several hundred clone troopers, some with injuries so severe they could barely move. Marine and Republic medics rushed to their side.

Etain looked and looked, and finally spotted four men in black armor. She ran to meet them; it had been too long.

"Hello, General," said Darman, and the happiness on his face was all she needed to see

Niner nodded politely, smiling nonetheless.

Atin gave a casual salute.

"General," said Fi, grinning widely.

Their greetings had to be toned down as they were in the presence of several people, but Etain knew they were glad to see her, especially her Dar. "What is that thing, Fi?"

"This?" said Fi, hefting a large weapon that looked vaguely like an assault rifle. "Apparently, it's called a Spartan Laser. A gift from the big green guy for rescuing him."

Etain saw the Master Chief standing at attention in front of a few UNSC and Republic officers. Both sets of officers were obviously surprised; she could feel it in the Force. The Chief, on the other hand, was a veneer of calm masking a will as hard as iron masking…a great sense of loss that he had evidently took pains to hide. He had not removed his helmet; it seemed to give him some comfort. Etain understood; Omega and Delta had not been happy without their armor during the Triple Zero anti-terrorist op, and they had been overjoyed to wear it again on the final run. It gave them a place to retreat to, a sense of privacy.

But it also made them look too superhuman to talk to.

'Spartan'. The word itself radiated the sense of 'warrior' from every letter and syllable. Etain wanted to talk to him, see what he was like. It was bound to be interesting.

"Master Chief?" she called out. She tried not to shudder as the super-soldier's gaze fell on her. His face was hidden entirely by a golden visor. It was designed as much to instill fear as to protect the man inside.

He marched quickstep to Etain, snapping off a tight salute. Etain was a small person to begin with, but this man towered over her. "Master Chief Spartan-117 reporting as ordered, ma'am," he said.

"I wonder if you could remove your helmet," said Etain, wondering how he would react. Slowly, the Spartan raised his hands to his head. Etain could hear the pressure seals hissing as he unfastened the helmet, and he finally removed it.

He looked neither young nor old, with blond hair and a few faint freckles. And he looked unnaturally white, like something that lived deep in a cave. His eyes were a steel blue color. He showed no emotion other than a muted confidence.

"How old are you?" she asked. She really couldn't tell his age, and wondered whether he was a clone like Darman and the others, younger than children who were playing with model starships in their living rooms.

He appeared confused for a moment, and then said, "I'm approximately forty-six years old, ma'am."

_Forty-six!_ It was as much a revelation to Etain as the clones' artificially shortened life spans had been. She wondered how many battles he had fought. But mostly, she wondered what to call him.

"What is your name?"

"Ma'am, Master Chief Spartan-117—"

Etain nearly smiled. Darman had reacted the same way, long ago on Qiilura when she had first thought he was the brutal Seperatist-hired mercenary Ghez Hokan. "No. Tell me your real name."

He hesitated again. Clearly, this was something private. "My name is John, ma'am."

"Just John? Nothing else?"

"John-117, ma'am. I don't recall my surname, not since…" he trailed off. "I'm sorry ma'am. I'm not authorized to reveal classified information."

Etain frowned. Whoever had trained this man had erased his past and identity; that much was clear. "That's alright, John." She noted that a flicker of discomfort flit across his face when she used his proper name. "Where's the rest of your unit?"

"Ma'am?"

"Surely you're not the only…Spartan, is it?"

"Yes ma'am. The rest of my unit is Missing In Action. I am the only active Spartan-II."

_All of them MIA? I'll look into this further some time later._ "Thank you, John. You're dismissed."

The Spartan snapped off another perfect salute and rejoined his superiors, disappearing into a Warthog that drove off out of sight.

"It doesn't make any sense," said Etain. "All of them missing?" Then Commander Keyes tapped her on the shoulder.

"It would be best not to talk about this here, ma'am," said Keyes. "Maybe someplace more…private."

000

_Aegis Fate_'s O-Club was unique. Instead of pictures, marble paneling with dark swirls lined the walls. The only previous commander of the vessel was one Karl Aaronian, whose portrait was accompanied by a black ribbon.

Commander Keyes offered Etain a drink, which she gracefully refused. Keyes sat on one of the plush chairs, and the young Jedi sat opposite her, wondering what secrets Keyes might reveal about the Spartans.

"Where should I start," mused the commander. "I guess I'll start with the civil war. Way before I was born, before we had encountered the Covenant, Earth and her colonies were embroiled in a series of brutal conflicts caused by differing ideologies. There were the Friedens on one side, the Kolsovics on the other, and the UN trying to put a stop to the activities of both factions. Eventually, the UN underwent a massive military buildup and emerged the victor. The UN military was reformed into the United Nations Space Command, and faced with a huge military that had no one to fight, the UNSC was put to work settling colonists on habitable planets. This was made possible by the invention of the Shaw-Fujikawa Slipspace drive system. We don't use it anymore; we use Covenant tech, since it's much more accurate. In any case, civil war erupted again and was put down again, but by the year 2517 the Office of Naval intelligence put massive, uncontrollable rebellion at less than years away. Something drastic had to be done, so ONI launched the Spartan Project. The project leader, Dr. Catherine Halsey, set out to look for kids that came as close to the definition of a perfect human being as possible. The Master Chief was one of those kids. I believe my father met him at that time." She paused, then continued. "These kids, six years old at that time, were captured by ONI Section 3 and replaced with flash clones that later succumbed to congenital diseases. The parents of the children didn't suspect a thing."

Etain had thought she had heard enough cruelty towards human beings when she heard Darman talking about the clone's fatally realistic training and what happened to those who didn't conform. Now, she realized that the Republic wasn't as heartless as the UNSC's intelligence community. Yes, Jedi were taken from their homes at a young age, but the parents had given consent, and the children had not been old enough at the time to bond with their parents. Six was an age when all the child knew was what his or her mother and father told him or her. These children had been taken away from their parents unwillingly, and to top it all off, they were replaced with faulty clones. She wondered how Kal Skirata would have reacted.

Keyes went on. "The children were trained from that age to be the perfect soldiers. By the time they were twelve, they could out-class the best the UNSC Marine Corp had to offer. I'm not sure exactly when, but at around the age of fifteen, I guess, they underwent a series of procedures designed to augment them physically and mentally. However, our grasp of medicine, while advanced at the time, was not advanced enough. Of the seventy-five children that made up the Spartan-II program, only thirty-three came out in good shape. Twelve were so mutated they couldn't fight anymore. The rest died in surgery. Even ONI considered it a terrible mistake, and some thought of shutting the Spartans down. But the Spartan's first mission, infiltrating a rebel base and capturing its leader, was an unparalleled success. When the Covenant attacked later that year, they became heroes and morale boosters. ONI's propaganda machine depicted the Spartans as invincible super-soldiers…which wasn't far from the truth. Spartans could do what others would consider impossible, and do it alone. They have the highest number of confirmed combat kills than any other unit in the entire military. The same went for successful missions. Over time, though, three Spartans were killed in combat."

"Three killed?" said Etain. "The Chief told me they were all MIA."

"ONI directive," said Keyes. "Civilian and military morale was low to begin with, sustained only by the presence of Spartans on the battlefield. ONI correctly assumed that reports of Spartan casualties would cause morale to plummet even further, so they ordered all Spartan casualties to be listed as either Missing In Action or Wounded In Action, in order to sustain both morale and the legend that Spartans never die."

"I see," said Etain. That meant that the war had to have been going very badly for the UNSC for them to resort to such extreme measures.

"As I was saying, by the year 2552, three Spartan casualties had been confirmed. All available Spartans, save some from Gray Team, were ordered to the military fortress planet Reach for a top secret mission: to hijack a Covenant ship, take it back to Covenant territory, and capture one of their leaders, called a Prophet. My father, Captain Jacob Keyes, was the ranking officer on that mission. Before the mission could get underway, however, the Covenant attacked Reach in force. They shredded our fleet to bits. The only thing stopping them from taking Reach were the orbital guns. Most of the Spartans were sent groundside to protect the generators powering the orbital guns. They were not successful. They were overwhelmed by Covenant forces. Most of them were killed. The Chief was the only Spartan to escape mostly unharmed. He went on my father's ship, the _Pillar of Autumn_, and the ship made a random jump, chased by an Elite commander. The _Autumn _arrived at a ring-world Forerunner structure called Halo, and after sustaining significant damage from Covenant forces, crash-landed on the surface. The events that happened there are still unclear to me; even though I was in ONI at the time, I was only a Lieutenant Commander and not privy to such information. All I know is that my father was killed by some parasitic infection called the Flood before the Chief could rescue him. The Chief destroyed Halo, effectively stopping the Flood and the Covenant Armada stationed there. I really don't know how, but the Chief made it back to Earth with a Sergeant Major Johnson and the AI Cortana. In the middle of the awards ceremony, however, a small Covenant fleet led by the Prophet of Regret attacked Earth. Although they were driven off, the fact still remained that the Covenant had somehow found Earth, even though we did our best to hide its location. The Chief boarded the frigate _In Amber Clad_, commanded by my older sister Miranda. She chased the Prophet all the way to another Halo. The Chief killed the Prophet there, and managed to get on board another Covenant ship belonging to the Prophet of Truth. _In Amber Clad _was taken over by the Flood and crashed into the Covenant traveling city High Charity, which was also promptly taken over by the Flood. In the midst of all this confusion, the Covenant was ripped apart by civil war; the Prophets ordered the newly introduced Brutes and the rest of the Covenant to eliminate all of the Elites. The Elites fought back, and one of them rescued my sister. He was the Elite commander who had chased my father to the first Halo, and he had been disgraced for allowing Halo's destruction. He had taken the role of the Arbiter, a normally suicidal role for an Elite, but he managed to survive all of the missions the Prophets had sent him on. After he rescued my sister, the Elites made a truce and alliance with us. In the meantime, the Chief arrived back on Earth, and assisted us in taking the Ark Portal, another Forerunner structure that had been buried under the surface of Earth under a city called New Mombassa. After the Covenant Loyalists—those loyal to the Prophets—had activated the portal and went through, a Flood controlled ship crash-landed on Earth. The Covenant Seperatists—those Elites who had taken up arms against the Prophets—arrived shortly after and assisted us in killing every Flood form on the planet. They went through the Portal, followed by my sister in her new ship, _Forward Unto Dawn_. They came across a huge Forerunner structure called the Ark. Again, I don't know exactly what happened there, but Miranda was killed, as well as Sergeant Major Johnson. The Chief destroyed the Ark, and went missing shortly after. Five years later, here he is. The last Spartan. I was angry at him at first."

"Why?"

"First, he failed to rescue my father. Then he let my sister die. But now, with the information the Arbiter gave me, I understand that the situation was out of this hands each time. I forgave him long before I realized I had, I guess."

"You called the Chief the last Spartan," said Etain, "but you also said that _most_ of the Spartans on Reach were killed. What about the others?"

"Ironically, those three are the only ones truly Missing In Action. God know where they are." She looked directly at Etain. "General, I just revealed a whole ton of information that I had no right to reveal. For both our sakes, I suggest you keep quiet about what you've heard today. ONI isn't squeamish about…silencing people."

"I assure you, I'll tell no one."

Keyes' data pad chirped, and she picked it up. She raised her eyebrows for a second, and cave the pad to Etain. "It looks like we'll be parting ways a lot sooner than you think, General. ONI's recruited you for a mission."

00000

**A/N: Looooooooooooooooooong chapter. I know there are discrepancies in Keyes' narrative, but that's what I wanted. She has only heard the story from third parties and backwater channels, so she won't know all the details, only some. The fic will speed up in later chapters.**


	4. Chapter 4: Necropolis

Chapter 4: Necropolis

**1324 hrs, July 15****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**ONI HQ, Tel Aviv, Israel**

**Earth, Sol System**

"They've got the Republic spooks joining the party?" said Vice Admiral Gibson. "Jesus Christ! I suppose those goddamn 'Nulls' are to blame?"

Captain Ericsson said, "Yeah. Some Captain Ordo."

"We have enough problems dealing with Forerunner crap without them wanting a piece of the action. Speaking of Forerunner, how's the Master Chief?"

"According to Fleet Admiral Harper, he seems none the worse for the wear. In fact," Ericsson said, consulting a data pad, "before he even left the planet, he managed to take out a Brute patrol with help from his rescuers. Not bad for a man who's been frozen for the better part of five years. Apparently, he has blond hair now. It's supposed to be brown. Same with his eyes."

"Some kind of cryo effect, maybe," said Gibson. "No one's been frozen as long as he has." He sighed. "Now, I never liked Spartans to begin with, but the recovery of the Chief and that other Spartan-II—Randall, is it?—may give us a huge boost in the war effort. Not to mention the remainders of Gamma Company. They're all the best soldiers I have ever seen." He looked off into the distance and scowled. "Those Nulls…they don't obey orders, is that right?"

"Not quite, sir," said Ericsson. He pulled up an audio file, dated around the time of the GAR-led anti-terrorist op on Coruscant:

"_I don't have time for this. And I only obey Kal Skirata."_

"Who's this Skirata?" asked Gibson.

"A mercenary," said Ericsson. "He's part of some warrior culture called 'Mandalorian'. He's one of the mercs hired to train the clone army. He formed a bond with his soldiers, especially those Nulls. From what I've been able to piece together, the Nulls were slated to be executed because they wouldn't obey orders, but Skirata stepped in to stop it. Since then, they've followed him around like a pack of puppies. They disappeared shortly after the op on Coruscant, then turned up again recently to help again in the war effort. Although Skirata has only a Sergeant's rank, he wants everyone of any rank to obey what he says. Pain in the ass, but he gets the job done."

Vice Admiral Gibson nearly smiled. "Oh I wish I could see the moment when he meets the Chief."

Ericsson smirked, then continued with his report. "Commander Kurosawa has requested assistance from the ONI station chief in the region, Captain Bradley. Bradley's put together another mutt team to…clear up the mess there."

They both knew where 'there' was to not mention it.

"'Mutt Team'?"

"Slang for any mixed UNSC-Republic unit."

"I see." He sighed. "Hasn't Bradley been acting strangely?"

"Bradley's always been a weirdo. I mean, the man went to a hospital to give a soldier a bag of melons. But he's an excellent field commander. If anyone can get the job done, it's him."

"I hope so."

000

**1500 hrs, July 15****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

_**UNSC Thermopylae**_**Task Force Romeo**

**Forerunner System (ONI designation-Necropolis)**

Fi stared around the cavernous launch bay of the UNSC cruiser. He had been on most Republic vessels, as well as other vessels, but this was the first time he'd ever been on a ship from the United Nations Space Command. The sheer size of the vessel was overwhelming; the largest vessel Fi had seen was the Venator-Class Star Destroyer, which was 1,137 meters long. But this vessel was 1500 meters long, and bristling with weapons Fi had never seen before. What astounded him was that most of these weapons were considered obsolete, but were still effective.

"Wow," said Darman. "Never been on a UNSC ship before. Biggest one I've seen."

"Maybe they're compensating for something," said Fi. He popped his helmet off, and the rest of the squad followed suit.

Some of the personnel on deck gave a start; clearly, this was the first time they worked with clones. Most returned to their duties, but Fi noticed that the female personnel gave them a thorough looking over. Some even smiled and winked. Fi felt his face go red and he found himself wishing he hadn't removed his helmet.

"It looks like you've got some admirers, Fi," said Darman.

For once, Fi didn't have an adequate comeback. But this time, it didn't bother him that much.

Suddenly, everyone on deck snapped to attention. Fi followed suit, and spotted the reason why everyone was so serious all of a sudden.

A man strode towards them, wearing Captain's bars. He had a bushy moustache and an eyepatch covered his left eye. On his right strode the Master Chief, obviously just transferred here like they had.

Omega gave a tight salute, which was promptly returned. "At ease," said the captain. "I'm Captain Konig Bradley. I assume you are the GAR special ops squad Omega, isn't that right?"

"Yes sir," said Niner. "Sir, RC-one-three-oh-nine. I'm Omega Squad's CO."

"I see," said Bradley. He turned slightly right to gesture at his escort, and Fi noticed the large weapon hanging on his hip. _M6G magnum pistol. Large caliber, big bang. Yep, definately compensating for something_. "This is Master Chief Petty Officer John-117. I know you've met him before. You'll be working together for this mission"

"May we ask what this mission is about, sir?" asked Niner.

Bradley gave a sinister smile, and Fi felt shivers crawl up his spine. "You'll find out soon enough." With that, he walked away, followed by the Chief.

Once Bradley was out of earshot, Fi said, "I'm not one to criticize officers, but I think he's a weirdo."

"You're not the first to think that," said a corporal in black armor. "You haven't seen him dance. That'll leave no room for doubt." He smiled and extended his hand. "Corporal Marcus Perez, A-Company, 82nd Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Division."

Fi shook the proffered hand, as did the others. "I'm Fi, Commando of the Grand Army of the Republic."

"Nice to meet you." He stared at their faces. "So, you guys really are clones. Neat." He walked off, beckoning them to follow. "I was ordered to show you your bunk-rooms before the briefing. Come with me."

The clones stared at all the unfamiliar things in _Thermopylae_. It was unlike anything they had expected. Rumors had flown around that the UNSC soldiers were a bunch of undisciplined thugs, but all they had seen so far were extremely disciplined and obviously experienced soldiers.

A squad of four Marines in olive-green armor marched past, exchanging nasty looks with Corporal Perez. Once they were out of sight, Perez said, "Those are boys from the 38th Infantry division. They're just jealous of ODSTs because we're so much more badass than they are. Don't get me wrong, they're decent soldiers. But we've had to rescue their butts more than once."

A 38th Infantry soldier nearby said, "Hey Perez!"

"What?"

"Wanna tell 'em about the time you shat you pants in a firefight?" He laughed as Perez grew red in the face. "Bet they didn't know that ODSTs got the biggest assholes, too."

"Fuck you, Dawson."

"At least I'm not retarded enough to ride in a goddamn pod!" shouted Dawson as the group rounded a corner.

Perez grinned at the clones' shocked expressions. "Don't worry. We don't mean what we say…most of the time." He stopped at a door and keyed a code. The room beyond consisted of four bunks, a table, a clock and a bottle of water. "Welcome to your sleeping quarters. Enjoy your stay. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to recharge a rack of Spartan Lasers." He left with a jaunty wave.

"Well," said Darman after a long pause, "that was educational."

000

"This is the objective," said Bradley, pointing to a pyramid-like structure, hovering in a hologram a few meters above the briefing room floor. "Preliminary analysis suggests similarities of a structure seen on another Forerunner world called Onyx…although this is pure conjecture, since this is satellite imagery."

"Sir," said Niner, "Why not analyze the structure on Onyx, then?"

"Mostly because the surface of the planet was blown to high heaven," replied Bradley, "And it's being protected by fanatical Sentinel drones that vaporize any ship that approaches." He nodded to Cortana, and the AI called up another image.

The clones froze in their seats. Was that…

"That's an image we just picked up," said Bradley. It was a picture of a field littered with armored bodies with distinctive T-shaped visors. "Mandalorian mercenaries. All dead. We have no idea why they were on Necropolis in the first place. All that we know is that they're hired CIS soldiers. Furthermore, we have no idea who killed them. But the fact remains that the CIS has a presence on the planet."

That was _not _good news. Niner remembered how hard it had been to kill Ghez Hokan, and that had been _one_ Mandalorian warrior. The idea of facing several squads of crack Mandalorian shock troopers was more unsettling than facing a regiment of Super Battle Droids.

"If you think that's the worst news, think again," said Bradley. "As you know, the Covenant Loyalist Remnant is still alive and kicking. A large Remnant fleet is approaching, and they will be here in twenty-four hours. They're most probably here to claim the latest piece of Forerunner crap for themselves, but that doesn't matter. Our naval offensive capability consists of your Republic task force consisting of two Venator-Class Star Destroyers, four Acclamator-Class Assault Ships, and three Dreadnought-Class cruisers." As he spoke, profiles of the ships, along with their names and numbers, appeared next to the first hologram. "The UNSC task force here is one Marathon-Class Cruiser, two Gorgon-Class Destroyers, one Apoc-Class frigate and one stealth vessel." The profiles of the UNSC vessels settled alongside their Republic compatriots. "That's fourteen vessels in all. The Remnant fleet, however, is estimated to be around thirty strong. We do _not_ have the capability to successfully combat both the Remnant and the inevitable CIS fleet. If the reinforcements I asked for don't arrive ,your window is twenty-three hours. After that, you're on your own. Do you understand, soldiers?"

"Yes sir!" said Omega simultaneously.

"Good. Your mission is to locate and extract Mutt Recon 1, the team that we sent in ahead. Your team will be designated Mutt Retrieval 1 and will consist of Omega Squad, Team Rapier, and the Master Chief. You will be followed in by Alpha Company 82nd ODSTs under the command of Lieutenant Charles DeGuerre. Although he is the highest ranking officer on this mission, the Master Chief has tactical command of all Republic and UNSC units unless I say otherwise or unless he's dead or incapacitated. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" the clones shouted again.

"Dismissed," he said. "And may God protect you."

As the clones filed out, Bradley waited five seconds, then opened another door. General Etain Tur-Mukan walked out, looking extremely pissed. "Unless the ranking structure changed while I was on Jabiim, I believe _I _am the highest ranking officer here, _Captain_."

Bradley glared at the Jedi with his one eye. "Vice Admiral Gibson, who outranks you by light years, gave me command of this mission. I will do what I see fit. All you have to do is sit on your ass until you are told otherwise." He turned and walked out. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance…General."

Etain was furious. She was furious not because of Bradley's rudeness, but because she couldn't even see Omega, much less talk to them. And there were more mysteries. Even though the clones had not asked, she knew they were a little more than curious about who was this so-called 'Team Rapier'. And the UNSC Marine units of the 38th Infantry on board the _Thermopylae_ were nothing like the 405th. They seemed…different. Something wasn't right.

000

**1600 hrs**

**UNSC **_**Iwo Jima**_

"_Something not right?" _repeated Commander Keyes. _"What do you mean?"_

'Everything about Bradley seems wrong," said Etain. "And those 38th people…they just don't seem to fit."

"_I don—hold on, did you say 38__th__?" _said Keyes, looking much more alert. _"As in, _38th Marine Infantry_?"_

"Yes."

"_Hold on a minute," _said Keyes, disappearing from the holotank's field of view for a few seconds. _Aegis Fate _was a system away, monitoring Loyalist Remnant activity, but the video had no lag on it._"You're right. That makes absolutely _no_ sense at all."_

"What?"

"_According to official records, the 38__th __Marine Infantry Division was stationed at Voi, on Earth, on October 20__th__, 2552; that's the day the Covenant invaded Earth. According to the report I'm reading now, the 38__th__ were wiped out to the last soldier."_

"How do you know which is the real 38th?"

"_The one which was wiped out at Voi."_

"How come you're so sure?"

Keyes covered her face with one hand. _"Believe me, I'm sure. My ex- boyfriend was in the 38__th__. I don't think I imagined his death. I'll report this to my superiors, but you, ma'am, should keep in the shadows for the time being. If something goes wrong, you're our last line of defense. Keyes out."_

Etain felt more frustrated than ever. Something bad was going to happen; she just knew it. She also knew that this frigate was not the safest place to stay. Right now, she was going to implement something Major Bradshaw had told her: "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." She was going to stay on the _Thermopylae _and keep an eye on things. If Keyes was right, Etain was the only one who could stop whatever Bradshaw had planned.

000

**1630 hrs, July 15****th**** 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**Unknown Forerunner structure,**

**Forerunner System (ONI designation-Necropolis)**

The Master Chief stared around at the vast amount of space inside the building. It was similar to the control center of Halo Installation 04, albeit on a much larger scale. Pads with holographic consoles dotted the perimeter, pads large enough to comfortably hold four Scorpion tanks. In the middle of the huge space, a very large holographic image of Necropolis dominated the ceiling. Status icons peppered its surface…and what appeared to be tunnels and caves that went deep into the planet. That was what especially interested the Chief. The missing Recon team was bound to be in there somewhere. What also worried the Chief was the absence of any major machinery on the planet; no Sentinels, no Enforcers, and no Monitors. His instinct told him something was wrong, but he put it aside for now and concentrated on the task at hand.

"What's the holdup, Chief?" said Fi. He and the rest of Omega were in a perimeter defense position. "We're ready to move out, and the 82nd have already set up a command post."

"We're waiting for Team Rapier," replied the Chief. "Standby."

Four soldiers in bulky green armor jogged into view. Their armor resembled the Chief's, except their appeared to be a lesser model. It seemed to absorb light. The one in the lead saluted and said, "Spartan-G238, reporting as ordered, sir."

"Wait," said Darman, "Did he just say 'Spartan'?"

"At ease," said the Chief to Spartan-G238. Then he addressed Darman. "G238 is a Series-III Spartan. He is one of the one hundred and fifty remaining members of Spartan-III Gamma Company. He and Team Rapier will be assisting us on this mission." He opened a private channel to Cortana. "What do we do now? You're the expert on Forerunner tech, after all."

"I'll take that as a compliment, even though I detected the sarcasm," replied the AI. "Those pads are teleportation devices. Punch in a couple of coordinates and it will take you wherever you want to go, even to a ship in orbit."

"Can you interface with the pads and find out which coordinates have been recently punched in?"

"Yes, if you put me there."

The Chief walked up to the console, noting that Team Rapier and Omega Squad already were working as one team. It eliminated one worry the Chief had.

The Chief put his glove to the console, and immediately he felt the familiar emptiness as Cortana transferred herself into the Forerunner system. Her hologram appeared, life-size, but thankfully with none of the signs of rampancy he had witnessed on the first Halo. "How is it?" he asked.

"Familiar," she said. "This entire facility activated right when the first team touched down. And it's a lot bigger than you think."

The Chief glanced at the planet's hologram, looking at the spider webs of tunnels that seemed to go no further than a few kilometers into the crust. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that this entire planet was made by Forerunner."

Judging from the samples of Forerunner construction he had seen so far: Alpha Halo, Delta Halo, the portal on Earth, and the Ark, the Chief wasn't the least bit surprised that the ancient civilization could have created artificial planets. "Have you found the team?"

"I think so," said Cortana. "However, I cannot transport you directly to their coordinates. There is some interference. I'll put you as close as I can."

"Do it," said the Chief. He motioned for the others to join him. "Brace yourselves," he said. "You won't like this one bit."

Fi was on the verge of asking 'why', when the group was surrounded by rings of light. Everything grew brighter…and then there was no trace of the team. They had disappeared.

00000

**A/N: Updates will be slow, as I am in the process of applying to colleges. Just an FYI. **


	5. Chapter 5: Phoenix Rising

Chapter 5

**((START FILE/))**

((ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION))

((TRANSMITTED: GAR INTEL))

((RECEIVED: ONI AI DURGA))

WE'VE RECEIVED INTELLIGENCE THAT TIES THE CIS TO A TERRORIST ORGANIZATION CALLING THEMSELVES THE 'INSURRECTION'. RING ANY BELLS?

((ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION))

((TRANSMITTED: ONI AI DURGA))

((RECEIVED: GAR INTEL))

UNFORTUNATELY, YES. THEY'RE AN OLD REBEL MOVEMENT. THESE BASTARDS DON'T KNOW WHEN TO STAY BEATEN. WHAT ELSE DO YOU KNOW?

((ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION))

((TRANSMITTED: GAR INTEL))

((RECEIVED: ONI AI DURGA))

ONLY ONE THING, BUT IT CONCERNS A VERY SERIOUS BREACH IN YOUR INTELLIGENCE AGENCY. THERE'S A MOLE IN SECTION 3. HE GOES BY THE CODENAME 'CYCLOPS'.

((ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION))

((TRANSMITTED: ONI AI DURGA))

((RECEIVED: GAR INTEL))

'CYCLOPS', HUH? IT DOESN'T MATTER. WE'LL FIND THE BASTARD AND NEUTRALIZE HIM.

((ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION))

((TRANSMITTED: GAR INTEL))

((RECEIVED: ONI AI DURGA))

I HOPE SO. FOR YOUR SAKE.

**end file))**

**((scramble/destruction process enabled))**

**((press 'enter' to continue/))**

**1847 hrs, July 15****th****, 2557 (Military Calendar)/**

**((ERROR: ANOMALY))**

**Necropolis**

Niner was still trying to get used to taking orders from a man who they had rescued only yesterday from an eternal ice nap. Not that he didn't like the Master Chief; in fact, he admired him. But the Spartan's faceless golden visor, his bulky green armor and his height made it slightly intimidating, not to mention the man had three times as much fighting experience than he did. _So, this is what it must feel like when the infantry lads see us._

The Chief, however, was not as worrying to Niner as much as what their current location was. The teleportation was just as bad as the Chief had said it would be, and worse. Somehow, Cortana had not detected a minor error in the Forerunner system. It had scattered them across the tunnels inside the planet's crust. Fortunately, they had been able to find each other, but now they had no idea where they were.

"Fi," whispered Niner, "Status report. Do you see anything ahead?"

Fi, who was a few meters ahead on point, replied, _"Sarge, you have a knack of asking that question at the perfect time. You won't believe what I've eyeballed up ahead. Mando mercs. Maybe a platoon's worth. You got that Chief?"_

"I copy," said the Master Chief. "Is there any way we can bypass them?"

"_Negative sir. They're blocking an intersection. They look as lost as we are; it looks like they're sending recons down the tunnels."_

"Show me."

Niner's HUD received Fi's video, routed through the Chief's COM. There were maybe a dozen men with the trademark Mandalorian armor. They were cleaning weapons, setting up camp, and doing all the normal things soldiers would do. Some were examining the Forerunner hieroglyphs peppering the walls, muttering under their breath. As Niner watched, a lone warrior appeared out of a tunnel and began delivering a report to a man who was obviously the head honcho, a warrior wearing a dark red _kama_ that contrasted with his and the others' dirty green armor.

"Here's the plan," said the Chief. "Their scouts are too good to sneak by, so Omega Squad will follow me in a direct assault. Rapier will activate their camo and kill the leader."

"What about sniper cover, sir?" asked Atin.

"You'll be in charge of that," said the Chief, "as well as Spartan-G155. For the rest of you: lob grenades into the tents off to the right. Everyone clear?"

"Yes sir."

The Chief slowly pulled the charging lever on his MA5C, let it slide back, and then charged. Niner followed him, and Fi and Darman came next. Niner noticed one of the Spartan-IIIs next to him starting to disappear, until he was nothing more than a barely visible distortion. _Ah, so _that's _what he meant by camo. Interesting._

Niner wondered what had possessed the Chief to go through with such a suicidal attack like this, when he realized what the Chief had known all along: the Mandalorians weren't aware that anyone else was _in_ the planet. That was why, when they saw a green armored giant and three clone commandos charging towards them, they failed to react the way Mandalorians were supposed to. Kal Skirata had once said that a good soldier knew an attack was coming before the enemy even thought of it. The Chief had quickly dispelled that notion.

A spray of purple blaster bolts struck the Chief in the chest, but the Spartan's energy shield took the brunt of the attack and the Chief simply fired a burst into the man's unprotected throat. Another warrior swung a vibro-axe at him, but the Chief simply sidestepped him and thwacked him over the head with the assault rifle. Niner opened up with the DC-17, knocking one man flat on his back and forcing his squadmates to scramble for cover. A blue beam cut a warrior down—Atin from his sniping post—then a loud crack echoed through the air and a trail of vapor punched through a man's head. _Fierfek. What a rifle. _

Niner noted that the mercs went after the Master Chief with no hesitation, but they paused before shooting at the clones. _It's the helmet, _he realized. He looked like a Mandalorian warrior. They were afraid of hitting their own. Niner had no such qualms; he knew who his brothers were. He blasted two more, then cursed as a spray of blaster fire forced him to leap behind a crate.

The Chief's energy shield seemed to grant him near-invincibility. Niner watched him straight-kick an enemy soldier, gaping as the unfortunate fellow went cart-wheeling through the air. A prolonged burst from the Spartan's assault rifle killed two more men, and Fi and Darman knifed two others. Suddenly his COM clicked, and the Chief shouted, _"Toss those grenades!"_

Niner stood up, ignoring the renewed burst of blaster fire coming at him, and tossed a thermal detonator. Seconds later, the men firing on their right flank were consumed by three thermal dets and a frag grenade. The Mandalorian commander ran at the Chief, brandishing a Verpine shatter gun and a Mandalorian saber, but then fell as if he ran into an invisible wall. Seconds later, three Spartans wavered into the visible spectrum, standing around the enemy commander. Without even pausing, they opened fire. Bullets riddled the commander. When they finally stopped, all was silent.

"That was easy," said Fi. "So much for Mando toughness."

"No," said the Chief. "We won only because they didn't know we were here. But they set up camp here just incase somebody did come along. Now, they know they're not alone. They'll be expecting us." He checked his rifle, ejected the spent magazine and slapped a new one in with a satisfying _clack_. "Check your weapon and armor status, police any useful tech and prepare to move out."

000

Etain's arrival on the _Thermopylae _received none of the anger she had expected. Captain Bradley had actually greeted her enthusiastically, even granting her access to all parts of the vast cruiser. Evidently, he didn't see her as a danger to his plans, or he didn't believe she could stop them.

There were now fewer of the black-armored Marines—ODSTs, were they?—on board the ship than when she had first arrived. Now there appeared to be more of the ones in olive–green armor than before. The way they moved and behaved seemed…different…from her friends in the 405th, more at ease in small four-man groups than the infantry standard of eight-man squads. They had to be elite troops of some kind. But all she could detect was a sense of anticipation. They were waiting for something.

Suddenly, she detected a presence behind her. She whirled around…and came face-to-visor with an ODST. "Ma'am?" inquired the soldier. "Is everything alright?" His shoulder pauldron was daubed in red, and in the UNSC that meant this was a Sergeant.

"N-no," said Etain. She held out her hand. "I'm Etain."

The Sergeant hesitated for a moment, and then shook the proffered hand. It was a firm grip. "Staff Sergeant Pete Stacker, ma'am," he said with a strange twang. He removed his helmet. The soldier appeared to be in his early forties, with a scar running diagonally down the side of his face. It looked like it might have been caused by an energy sword, probably wielded by an Elite. The Sergeant had survived; the Elite, apparently, hadn't.

Etain felt his presence in the force, and aside from the sense of loss and pain that seemed to be in all of the UNSC veterans, she detected no ill will directed towards her…and felt a certain distrust of Captain Bradley. She could trust him. "May I speak to you in your room, Sergeant?"

Stacker looked slightly taken aback, but he said, "Sure."

000

Stacker stared at the girl that was supposed to be a battle-hardened general. It wasn't her appearance that startled him. It was the impact of what she was saying. "You're saying Bradley might be a…traitor?"

"I don't know, Sergeant," sighed Etain, "but I know that he isn't to be trusted. If anything goes wrong, can I count on you?"

"Absolutely, ma'am."

"Is there anyone else you can count on?"

Stacker mulled it over a while. _There was Johnson, but he's dead. Poor bastard. Let's see…Fuery, Downey, McKay, maybe that Perez kid…Burns, Ramirez, Abreu, and Franklin. That's eight in all. Not much, but it'll count._ "I can think of six guys and two gals that I can count on."

"Anyone of them in a position of command?"

"Only you, ma'am."

Etain looked disappointed. "I see. It will have to do." She stood up. "Thank you, Sergeant."

Stacker saluted. "Ma'am."

Etain left the room, trying to comprehend her own actions. Here she was, plotting against a UNSC officer with an impeccable service record…and a dark reputation. But it was either that, or sit around until Bradley's own plan came to fruition. And, even if her suspicions proved correct, how would she take over a ship with nine Marines? She didn't know what Keyes could do either, but in any case she highly doubted that a small frigate like _Aegis Fate _could do anything against a cruiser like _Thermopylae_.

"I wish Kal was here," she said to herself. "He'd know what to do."

Suddenly, she felt a tremor in the Force. At the same time, the ship's gravity shifted ever so slightly; _Thermopylae _was turning. She focused on that tremor, and traced it to Bradley. For a moment she saw what his plan was. The shock made her pause for a few seconds, but she shook it off and ran to meet Sergeant Stacker.

There was no doubt about it: Bradley was going to kill all the Republic forces in the area.

00000

**A/N: Short chapter, I know, but I haven't had much time, what with college applications and crap. The next chapter will be better, I promise. **


	6. Chapter 6: Breach

Chapter 6: Breach

The Master Chief hit the brakes as the Warthog neared a curve. The troop transport variant drifted and regained control as the Spartan twiddled the wheel with all the expertise of a rally driver. They had discovered it shortly after their first encounter with the Mandalorians at an abandoned UNSC camp situated in a large cavern.

"A little too bouncy for my taste," said Fi, sitting shotgun beside the Spartan. "But I love the color."

"Where are we going, sir?" Niner shouted over the roar of the 'Hog's engine.

"Deeper into the planet, Sergeant," replied Cortana. "ONI files on a similar planet called 'Onyx' suggests there's some sort of Forerunner structure at the core of the planet…which means that Necropolis, like Onyx, is artificial."

"Wait," said Fi. "Are you saying that this was man-made?!"

"It's certainly made by someone," said Cortana, "but not by man."

"Fierfek," said Darman. "And I thought Coruscant was spectacular."

"Cortana," said the Chief, "are you still out of contact with _Thermopylae_?"

"Interference from whatever's down there is preventing me from contacting Captain Bradley. At least we know what happened to the advance teams."

They had come across several scenes of battle, most of which were littered with clone and UNSC bodies. It appeared that the Mandalorians had already been here and were establishing a base to attack UNSC colonies. However, what had happened to the first 'Mutt' team was still a mystery; their bodies weren't found among the dead.

They advanced deeper into the planet. Teleporters took them further in until the Chief came across a sight that forced him to hit the brakes.

At least a hundred Mandalorian warriors had set up camp. Nearly a thousand battle-droids of every type marched on patrol, and a line of Armored Assault Tanks protected a Forerunner structure with thirteen fins jutting into the air.

"…osik," said Darman. The Chief didn't know what that meant, but he had a pretty good idea and he sympathized with it completely.

"Nothing less than a direct assault will get us to the structure," said the Chief. "Not even my Spartans would try that."

"I bet _you_ would," said Cortana. "You've done it before."

"Where?" asked Niner.

Cortana sent the file on Alpha Halo to Niner's HUD. The commando gulped visibly.

"Well, we don't want to blow this place up. Do we?"

The Chief turned to face the commando, and Niner suddenly felt…intimidated. "If it comes to that," said the Spartan, "yes; we'll blow it up with a NOVA bomb. But it hasn't come to that yet, and we have a full company of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers with heavy armor."

"But we'll need some time to get to the surface to contact the Lieutenant," said Atin. "And how will we defeat the Seps with less than two hundred and fifty men and four tanks?"

"Our objective isn't to defeat them," said the Master Chief. "It's to get to that structure they're guarding. And we'll have more than a hundred and fifty men. There are Republic and UNSC assets up there that haven't landed yet, including those walkers you guys have."

"I love AT-TEs," said Fi. "Six legs and all."

"Let's get back to the surface. We're gonna prepare for battle."

000

Etain marched towards the bridge, her lightsaber clutched tightly in her hands. Even though she hadn't activated it, it got a lot of people out of her way. Following her, in full combat gear, was Sergeant Stacker and eight ODSTs, BR55s and MA5Cs at the ready, all safeties off. Etain could hear the steady humming of the ship's engines through the decks; the _Thermopylae _was obviously going somewhere fast.

The bridge doors were guarded by two 38th Infantry riflemen, who stood their ground and shut the blast doors. "You're not authorized to enter here, ma'am."

"Move out of the way, boys," said Stacker. "That's a direct order."

"We have orders from Captain Bradley not to let anyone on the bridge, sir."

Etain stepped forward. "I'm overriding the captain's authority. Step aside."

The two men hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Stacker cranked the charging lever of his MA5C. "You're coming real close to insubordination, son. Obey the general before I dispense some Texan justice on your ass."

The two finally moved and opened the doors. The group marched in. Bradley was looking at the main screen that separated the rear half of the bridge from the front. He only turned around when he heard the _vzzzzm _of the Jedi's lightsaber igniting. The bridge officers were confused as to what action to take. Some went for their side arms, but the ODSTs had them in their gunsights instantly.

"What in hell's name is going on?" said Bradley.

Etain stood firm, the sky-blue of her lightsaber lighting her features. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Well," said Bradley, a hint of a smile on his face, "since you're asking…I'm gonna kill every single Republic soldier here."

The response to this statement was immediate. Guns flew out of their holsters and every weapon was aimed at Bradley. Etain, however, saw something in Bradley's eyes, something that was definitely not human. "Who are you?"

Bradley smiled again, and when he spoke, Etain's heart nearly stopped. "You really have forgotten me, girl."

The thing that looked like Bradley but wasn't morphed into a black-furred four-legged creature that Etain instantly recognized. "You—you're Jinart!"

"What is that thing?" whispered Stacker.

"A Gurlanin. Shapeshifter."

"Your Republic promised to remove the human settlers from my home world, but you did not!" shouted Jinart.

"Unless you haven't noticed," said a bridge officer, "the farmers are resisting Republic efforts to remove them. You can't just take a hundred thousand people and send 'em off in an hour."

"The Republic broke their promise," hissed Jinart. "They will pay for it."

"No," said the man. His name-tag said his surname was McDougal. "I don't know what you've done with Captain Bradley, but I can say this: I am now the head of all UNSC forces here. If you people blow up another Republic ship like you did at Qiilura, I will nuke your home world until not even an amoeba is left alive. You got that?"

"We only blew up their ship to show how deadly we can be. You have no idea how many of us there are. You can never find us."

"Yes we can. It's a simple process called DNA verification." Commander McDougal (Etain could see the three bars and star on his shoulder) aimed his M6G at the Gurlanin. "You have a few options. Option one: you come quietly and await trial for the terrorist act involving the destruction of that Republic Assault Ship. Option two: you resist, and we shoot you. What'll it be?"

"Jinart," said Etain quietly, "don't do this."

The Gurlanin paid no heed to the Jedi. "I shall take option three: I kill you all." She started morphing again, taking the shape of a wampa ice beast.

Etain shouted "No!"

It was no use. More than a dozen weapons discharged, brass casings raining down on the deck. Bullets hammered Jinart, and she collapsed, reverting back to her original form. Stacker stepped forward and shot the Gurlanin in the head twice, to make sure she was dead.

Etain stared at the creature she had once called a friend.

"Dispose of the body," said McDougal. "Helm, set new course: one-eight-zero by zero-zero-zero. COM1, contact FLEETCOM and tell them what happened. COM2, alert GAR Intelligence. Advise both parties to begin immediate genetic screening of all personnel." He stepped around the body, holstered his pistol, and put his hand on Etain's shoulder. The Jedi jerked back to reality. "Ma'am, it's best that you leave."

Etain didn't move.

"Come on, ma'am. I'll take you to the O-Club." Without prompt, he dragged the stunned woman off the bridge.

Etain didn't remember the trip to the Officer's Club. She only knew that once she regained control of herself that she was sitting on a soft chair in front of a low wood table. The room was paneled with wood as well, and there were pictures on the wall.

"I suppose Jedi don't drink," said McDougal. "C'mon, pull yourself together. If you hadn't acted, my crew would have been forced to fire on those ships of yours. Lord knows this ship has enough nuclear ordnance to waste them. And besides, you weren't the one who killed...her. It. Whatever it was."

"She…used to be a good friend of mine, back when I was on her planet working against the Seperatists," said Etain. "If it weren't for her, I might've not made it out of there alive."

"It's funny how things work out like that," said McDougal. "That's the world of black-ops. You never can trust anyone but yourself."

Etain nodded. Trying to change the subject, she said, "Those other soldiers…They're not really 38th Infantry, are they?"

"No. They're Navy Special Warfare Marines. NavSpecWep. They're of the 425th NavSpecWep Special Ops battalion. Sort of like your Republic Commandos. They officially don't exist, so we just put the '38th' designation on them." McDougal followed Etain's gaze and looked at the paintings and pictures on the walls. "Those portraits are all the previous commanders of _Thermopylae_."

"There's so many."

"_Thermopylae _has the dubious reputation of surviving battles while letting her crew die. All of these men and women died during the Covenant War."

Etain wondered whether they'd put Captain Bradley's portrait up. Jinart must have obviously killed the man to take his place. "Those paintings…"

"_Last Stand of the 300_ by Charles Gunny, 2198. It shows an ancient battle that took place when swords of bronze were relatively new. It was where the advance of millions of Persian soldiers commanded by King Xerxes was halted by a brave force of three hundred Greek warriors called 'Spartans'."

"'Spartans'?" said Etain. "This is where the name comes from?"

"Yes. The Spartans under King Leonidas defended the Thermopylae Pass against impossible odds for nearly four days. They were betrayed and surrounded, but they fought to the last man. After that, the Greeks rallied and defeated the Persians months later. Spartans were considered the best fighters of ancient times."

"Which is why you named your super soldiers after them."

"Yes. And, the name fits. Spartans can do the impossible, and do it alone. The Master Chief survived nearly three hundred major battles with the Covenant and the United Rebel Front. He pretty much single-handedly destroyed two Forerunner installations and a group of Spartans under his command managed to decimate a 500-ship-strong Covenant Armada bound for Earth."

Etain looked at the painting again. Gunny's artistry was disturbingly realistic: the expressions on the Spartans' faces, the spray of blood, the details. It looked more like a photograph than a painting. "I understand now." She turned towards him. "How many Spartans are left?"

The Commander looked uncomfortable for a moment but then the COM chimed, sparing him for the moment, and a man said, _"Commander, _Aegis Fate _has detected incoming hostiles. Drive profiles confirm that they are Covenant vessels. We have also confirmed that they are not Covenant Seperatist vessels. Estimate around thirty vessels."_

McDougal sighed. "Speaking of impossible odds…" He got up. "Ma'am, if you'd like, you can accompany me to the bridge."

"What use would I be during a space battle?"

"You have…unique abilities. They might come in handy." He turned on the intership COM. "All UNSC and Republic vessels, go to combat alert Alpha. This is not a drill; I repeat, this is not a drill. Prepare for hostile contact with Covenant Loyalist Remnant vessels."

000

The Brute Chieftain Bracktanus could see the vermin clearly on his holographic screen. There were only fourteen heretic vessels here; odd considering that this was a Forerunner planet. The Brute had assumed that they would guard it zealously. _Very well then, _he thought. _If they do not respect the gods enough to give an appropriate guard to their creations, they shall pay. _

"Pack Brothers!" he shouted. "The heretics have beaten us to our prize and defiled it with their filthy footsteps! For this sin, they shall burn: first, by our plasma, and after, in the fires of hell!"

The Brutes roared their approval of this course of action. They were ready for revenge.

Bracktanus summoned his field commander, a one-armed Brute named Lokarnus. "Land our troops in force and destroy whatever rag-tag army they have. Make for the core." He beckoned his pack-brother closer. "And keep the Grunts and Jackals in line."

Lokarnus bowed his head. "It will be done as you say, Chieftain."

Bracktanus watched him go, then turned around, faced the display, beat his fists against his chest-plate and roared.

It was time to go to war.

000

The Master Chief, Rapier Team and Omega had just made it back to the surface when the Chief's COM crackled. _"Spar….ne-one-seve…is Comma…r Mc…gal…you read?_

"This is Spartan-117, sir. I read you." The Master Chief thought he could hear commotion and explosions in the background. That was never a good sign.

"…_.we're under attack by…oyalist remna…rces. Regroup with…ompany and fall ba…to a defe…ive position. Do you read me?"_

"Yes sir." The Chief waited for a reply, but none came. "Cortana?"

"Your COM is fine," said the AI. "The trouble must be on their end."

Niner stepped forward. "That's not good. We should RV with Alpha Company and dig in."

"Not to contradict you Sarge," said Fi, "but we're special forces, not infantry. Remember what happened last time we were deployed like that?"

Niner nodded slowly. "Only too well."

"We don't have a choice in the matter," said the Master Chief. "The commander's orders are clear. Cortana, contact Lieutenant DeGuerre."

"_Lieutenant DeGuerre, this is Military AI CTN-4529, codename: Cortana. As per General Order 98.93.121, I am taking command of all UNSC and Republic forces."_

After a long pause, the Master Chief said, "Well? What's his reply?"

Cortana sounded grim. "Listen for yourself." She sent the audio reply to his HUD.

"_Bravo-Kilos, 2 o'clock! They've got carbines! Dammit, where's the El-Tee? Set off those charges now! Be advised _Thermopylae_; we are under heavy fire and can't hol—"_ The channel fizzled out into static.

"Osik…" said Darman, as a Spartan-III tapped the Chief's shoulder and pointed skyward. The Chief followed his gaze…and froze.

A Covenant Assault Cruiser in the silver-blue trappings of the Loyalist Remnant hovered over the plains where Alpha Company had set up camp, flanked by two cruisers. All three vessels had active gravity lifts. Floating down those lifts were hundreds of thousands of Brutes, Jackals, Hunters and Grunts, followed by Wraiths, Prowlers, Choppers and even Scarabs.. Even from this distance, the Chief could see Covenant Wraith Tanks lobbing mortars at what he knew was Alpha Company's position.

The Chief opened a secure channel to Alpha Company. "Alpha Company, this is Sierra-117. Retreat and regroup at these coordinates. You can't hold out against a direct assault. Do you read me?"

After a few agonizing seconds, the reply came: _"Loud and clear, Chief. Falling back now."_

"What do you have in mind, Chief?" asked Niner.

"Guerilla warfare," replied the Spartan. "Hide in the forest, hit them hard and fast, and disappear again. Wear them down."

Fi seemed pleased. "Now, _that _is something we were trained for."

The Commandos and Spartans vanished into the forest. It was time to bring the hurt.

00000

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Hope you enjoy. **


	7. Chapter 7: Retribution

Chapter 7: Retribution

The scene that met Fi's eyes was one of death and devastation. Bodies—human bodies—were everywhere, some killed by plasma, others by large spikes, and some even looked like they were flattened by a hammer. Vehicles lay abandoned, toppled over or set on fire. However, it wasn't the dead that he and his fellow commandos were concerned with. It was the prisoners guarded by the Loyalists, and the Brute Chieftain with the hammer who was questioning them.

Fi sighted through the DC-17 sniper-scope, noting that each of his brothers was sighting on the Chieftain as well; the Master Chief had stressed how resilient to damage a Chieftain could be. Niner wanted to make sure that the Brute was killed immediately, and this time was a case of 'P for plenty'.

The Chieftain picked up an ODST. "Tell me where the Demon hides," he snarled, "and perhaps your death shall be quick."

The helmet-less ODST choked, "Suck my dick, chimp."

The Chieftain snarled and raised his hammer. He never got to swing.

The commandos fired as one. The Brute's helmet flew off, and the alien tumbled to the ground, dropping the lucky Marine. But then, a strange shimmering shield appeared around the Brute, and try as they might the commandos couldn't down it.

The Brute picked up his hammer and charged at the commandos' position, moving faster than any Brute Fi had seen before. "Not good."

"Switch to anti-armor!" shouted Niner, already swapping his Deece's weapons mode.

The commandos complied without question. Grenades exploded around the Brute, who ignored them as merely annoyances. He reached Niner, and swung his hammer just as Niner jumped.

There was a loud _BOOM!_, the air at Niner's feet seemed to distort, and the commando was tossed through the air like a rag-doll. Satisfied that Niner seemed to be out of the picture, the Chieftain turned to Fi.

"Fierfek!" Fi sprayed the Chieftain with plasma, but to no effect. "Chief! We need—"

There were two claps of thunder, and two trails of vapor intersected with the Chieftain's head. Bereft of a functioning brain, the Chieftain collapsed at Fi's feet, uttering one final snarl before staying still. Fi put a few bolts in its head just to be sure, and turned to his Sergeant.

"I'm fine," he said before Fi could say anything. "Just a little sore." He got to his feet. "Thanks for the assist, Chief."

The COM crackled, and a woman said, _"Hey! Don't give him credit! That was my kill, you ungrateful…uh, yes sir, shutting up now."_

From the shadows of the forest, soldiers in black armor and silver-visor-helmets appeared. They were ODSTs, like the prisoners the Master Chief was liberating. One of them rested an SRS99D S2 AM Sniper Rifle against her shoulder, helmet held in her other hand. She looked at the commandos and said, "What, never seen Marines before?"

A helmeted Sergeant smacked her in the back of the head. "The hell you thinkin' Marine? This is still a combat zone! Put that helmet back on!" He shook his head, muttering angrily.

"Sergeant Major Hawkins," said the Chief, appearing out of a small clearing. Fi couldn't see what was in it, but he had a good idea; fluorescent blue blood was spattered on the Spartan's armor. "Give me a sitrep."

"What can I say, Chief? They came outta nowhere. Hit us quick and hard. I rallied the survivors behind me, 'cuz the El-Tee was nowhere. I'm thinkin' he bought the farm when those Wraiths started pounding the camp. I heard your transmission durin' the ruckus and figured I'd follow up on your orders. We hid in the forest, an' I planned a counter-assault to get the prisoners out. That's when you and your team showed up." He looked at his soldiers. "There's about forty-two of us with the liberated prisoners, Chief. We have plenty of ammo, but the tanks've been captured, along with their crew. I'm pretty sure they wanna trap us when we go to get 'em back."

"What should we do, Chief?" said Darman.

"Spring the trap," said the Spartan. "I'll get myself captured and cause enough mayhem for you to strike."

"Wait…you're gonna _purposely_ get captured?"

"Yeah. Nothing I haven't been through before. I can handle this one."

"Funny thing is," said Fi, "I don't think he's joking."

"Trust me," said Cortana, "he's not."

000

Darman winced as the Chieftain kicked the Spartan yet again. The Commando could hear the Master Chief grunting in pain over the open COM channel. The Brute was obviously proud that he had 'captured' the Demon, not knowing that several humans were liberating their tanks from his underlings.

"Tell me Demon," smirked the Chieftain, "what does 'Spartan' mean? Does it mean 'dung'?"

The Chief groaned, "It means…"

"What?"

"It means…"

"Speak up, heretic!"

This time, the Chief sat up, looked the Brute straight in the face, and said, "It means 'Always disarm your enemy before interrogating him'."

The Chieftain looked down to see a plasma grenade attached to his crotch. The Brute staggered back, wailing, and the Spartan used the distraction to move to a safe distance and grab a carbine. The grenade exploded, smoldering bits of Brute fell back down to Earth, and the Chief started firing.

"That's our signal," said Niner. "Hit 'em, Omega!"

DC-17 sniper beams pierced alien flesh. Hit from several different angles, the Covenant stopped trying to find cover and went for suicide charges.

"What the…" said Darman, seeing something approaching him fast on his radar. He turned to see a Grunt yelling wildly, an ignited plasma grenade in each hand. It would have been comical, but Darman had seen the power of_one _plasma grenade. He pulled his sidearm out and put two shots into the Grunt's skull. The Grunt fell, and the grenades exploded at a safe distance, although Darman's HUD briefly flickered with static. "Crazy little kriff."

The Chief opened a channel to them. _"Omega Squad, move in. Team Rapier, are those tanks secure?"_

"_Affirmative, Chief," _replied the Spartan-III.

"_Good. Now, if Cortana's right, we should be having some good company soon."_

"What good company, sir?" asked Niner.

There was a huge sound like a thunderclap, and the commandos instinctively looked up. A Covenant Assault Carrier appeared overhead, dropping what appeared to be capsules.

"Fierfek!" said Niner. "They've brought in reinforcements!"

"No," said the Chief, appearing suddenly behind them. "I think the tables just turned in our favor."

000

Etain watched as the enemy Loyalist ships surrounded _Thermopylae_. There was no way the Marathon-Class Cruiser could take on four Assault Carriers, and the other allied ships were either destroyed of had their own hands full. She had spent most of the battle trying to keep up the morale of the bridge crew and assisting the medics with the injured. But now, she felt her own morale plummet. _I guess this is it. Darman, I'm so sorry._

Suddenly, nine other ships came out of Slipspace. Covenant ships. But Etain was no longer worried. She recognized those ships.

The holotank sputtered to life, and the familiar profile of a Covenant Elite missing two mandibles appeared. _"Attention all humans and take heed: This is the carrier _Shadow of Intent_. Clear this sector of Confederacy forces. _We_ shall deal with the Brutes."_

Commander McDougal radiated pure relief. "_Shadow of Intent_, this is the UNSC Cruiser _Thermopylae_. If you can spare us the firepower, we could use some help."

Rtas 'Vadum nodded._"It is done."_

Etain could see the entire Elite fleet now: twenty vessels, most of them cruisers and many of them carriers. A few cruisers and a carrier broke off and sped to _Thermopylae_'s assistance.

McDougal was looking as well. "Jesus," he said. "General, what you're looking at is the First, Second, and Third Sangheilian Fleets."

The Elites attacked the Brute ships with an animal-like ferocity, ignoring the splashes of plasma across their shields. Elite and Loyalist Seraph fighters engaged in vicious dogfights, sometimes going so far as to ram each other.

Etain looked at McDougal. "What are you waiting for, Commander? Let's help them out."

The Commander smiled. "Yes ma'am." He clicked on the intership COM. "All ships, fire at will. Pick your targets and go!"

00000

**Sorry this took so long. And yes, the Arbiter will be here. Why? He's a f!#ing Elite. A 1337 Elite. **

**On the downside, updates will be less frequent. On the upside…I just got accepted at Kean University. w00t.**


	8. Chapter 8: Side By Side We Walk As One

Chapter 8: Side By Side We Walk As One

"Hold your fire," said the Master Chief.

Fi, lowered the Deece, but kept the safety off. All the aliens he had seen so far had been hostile, and it was hard not to put a good measure of plasma into the six newcomers.

They were, according to the stats his HUD was giving him, Sangheili, or Elites. With their four mandibles and rows of sharp teeth, they were the very opposite of the noble-looking warriors Fi had expected them to look like. Add that to their colorful armor and their extreme height, and what you got was the stuff little childrens' nightmares were made of.

The one in the lead wore light gold armor that seemed more ceremonial than his comrades' armor. Clipped to his side was a deactivated item that looked like a lightsaber, and on his back was a carbine. He seemed to smile—or at least it seemed so; Fi couldn't tell—put one clawed hand on the Master Chief's shoulder, and said "Well met, Spartan. I knew you could not die so easily."

The Chief nodded politely. "Arbiter. You came in the nick of time. You seem to have a knack for that."

The Arbiter chuckled. Then he spotted the commandos. "You are warriors from the Republic. I have heard many stories of your deeds."

Niner saluted. "Sir."

Another Elite, this one in dark red armor, said, "The Brutes have caught our scent, brother. They are coming."

The Arbiter's face rippled briefly with disgust. "How many, N'tho?"

N'tho sniffed the air. "The strong stench suggests ten. Possibly more." He sniffed again. "There are Jackals and Grunts with them as well. They are moving in from the north."

"Then it is an even fight," said the Arbiter, unslinging his Carbine. The other Elites roared in approval.

"If they didn't know we were here before," said Fi, "our musical friends have made sure that they do now."

"The Elites know the Brutes have smelled us out," said the Master Chief. "They're sending a message to the Brutes."

"What message?"

"That we're ready for them."

Fi understood now. But that didn't reassure him.

They waited four minutes before the high-pitched squeals of the Grunts could be heard. Then the enemy came into view. N'tho, it seemed, had been right; there were ten Brutes, surrounded by a gaggle of Grunts and a group of Jackals with activated shields.

The Elites struck first. Green tracers from their carbines hit the Brutes, and those that weren't killed in the first volley took cover. A blue-armored Elite Minor chucked a plasma grenade which killed a few Jackals. Then the Elites, led by the Arbiter, charged.

The Spartans and commandos stayed where they were. Utilizing the DC-17's sniping mode, the commandos picked off the Jackals one by one. The Spartans used BR55HB Battle Rifles, eliminating panicking Grunts. Then they followed their Elite comrades into battle.

The Elites had already killed five Brutes. The Arbiter activated his energy sword—a flat two-pronged weapon enveloped in a magnetic field—and neatly beheaded a berserking Brute. N'tho was actually beating another Brute with bare claws.

Fi stuck a vibroblade into yet another Brute's face, followed up with a punch to the neck, then finished it off with blaster fire. N'tho broke his quarry's neck, spotted Fi's handiwork and said, "Ha! Such a deed strengthens the blood!"

_If you say so_. Fi concentrated on the remaining Grunts that were running around screaming. He mowed them down without remorse. Methane from the creatures' breathing apparatuses ignited and scorched the ground.

The whole engagement took less than three minutes. The Arbiter sheathed his blade and said, "They will try to hunt us down. But we have a greater objective."

The Chief looked at him. "You mean the structure at the core."

"Yes."

"But what about the CIS? You haven't declared war with them, right?"

"The Council has deemed the Confederacy's actions on this world blasphemy," said the Arbiter. "The Covenant is obligated to purge all heretics from all Forerunner relics." He curled his claws into a fist. "Their destruction is the will of my people, and we are their instrument."

The odd group of allies discussed their plans. "According to the data given by your Fleet Master," said Niner, "there are only two weak points in the Sep defenses. Behind those defenses are triple-A batteries and artillery. Any enemy dropship or vehicle will be destroyed, and a direct assault would be suicidal."

"Two small forces shall be used," said the Arbiter. "The younger Spartans shall join the special operations team led by Usze 'Taham and hit the northern point. We shall hit the south-east point. Both teams will come in by dropships.

"Our first target shall be the artillery. Once that is done, your tanks shall enter through the south-east gap. We shall then take care of the anti-air batteries. Banshees and Hornets will then help us in eliminating the remaining defenses. That will clear the way for our forces to land and prepare an assault."

"It's a simple enough plan," said the Master Chief. "It should work, as long as we pull our weight."

"Can the teleporters handle the dropships?" asked Fi.

"Yes," said Cortana. "Whatever error was in the system, it's been corrected now. If the teleporters were big enough, we could've just sent in that Elite carrier. However, there is one snag."

"Do tell."

"If the Seperatists are expecting an attack, they've most likely already targeted the platforms where we'll be popping up."

"That's a big snag."

"Yes," said the Arbiter. "That is why the dropships are essential to our plans. We can move before they react to our presence."

"It's very risky," said Niner. "But we don't have much of a choice, do we?"

"No."

"Arbiter," said the Chief, "what about the Brute force stationed at the structure on the surface?"

"My brothers are wiping them out as we speak," replied the Arbiter. "The Brutes pose no danger to our plans. We will proceed to our goal past their shattered bodies." Once again, the Elites roared joyfully.

"Creepy," said Fi.

000

Commander McDougal saluted, while Etain did the traditional small bow that all Jedi seemed to do. Fleet Master Rtas 'Vadum responded by placing a closed claw over his heart. "Once again, we fight together," said the Elite. "Humans…and Elites. Truly, we were destined to fight as one."

"Fleet Master, sir," said McDougal, "with all due respect sir, we need to prepare for a battle with the Seperatists. They won't take to your presence lightly."

"I would be disappointed if they thought any less of our presence," said 'Vadum. "Do not be concerned, Commander. Our fleets have been called, and they will answer our summons. This appears to be the only Forerunner construct that has not suffered the taint of the Flood. It must be kept safe."

"What's the Flood?" asked Etain.

"Very freaking dangerous," said McDougal. "Trust me, you don't want to know the details."

"Sir!' shouted the officer at COM1. "HIGHCOM has reported that a CIS fleet is incoming. They don't know how large it is, but it's commanded by General Grievous."

"Grievous?" said Etain, turning a little pale.

"I have heard of him," said Vadum, turning to face the young Jedi. "He has slain many of your fellow warriors."

"ETA?" said McDougal.

"Five hours, tops," replied the COM1 officer.

"Fleet Master, sir," said the officer, "ship officers are requesting a rally point. Where should they go?"

'Vadum bowed his head. "To quote a certain human female: to war."

00000

**Praise for 'Star Wars: Mystery of the Forerunner':**

"**I would totally read this book if it could actually get past copyright laws' (Family attorney)**

"**I would have enjoyed this book immensely if I were alive, which, for all you nerds out there, I am not." (Gene Roddenberry)**

"**how cud u mix star wors wid hlo?!??!1/ u sux dik!!" (Nooblet, the Mentally Challenged Eunuch)**

"**halo sux" (PS3 fanboy)**


	9. Chapter 9: Reunion

Chapter 9: Reunion

Mandalorian clan leader Andros Karrn hated droids.

He hated them because they did not and could not understand honor, or courage, or sacrifice. They could not feel anything beyond the range of their programming. And, they could be remarkably stupid. In fact, Karrn hated only one other thing more: the Republic.

He hated the Republic because of what they had done to the legacy of Jango Fett. He hated the multitude of clones who wore the face of the greatest Mandalorian warrior the galaxy had ever known. He especially hated the Jedi who led them. Those were the reasons why Karrn accepted a commission in the CIS, and he had done his job well.

Karrn looked at the thirteen fins jutting out of the structure behind him. They had been slowly rising inch by inch for the past ten hours. Karrn had no idea what would happen when the process finished, but he would catalogue every piece of technology and sell it to the CIS…for a hefty price, of course.

And only after he had finished dealing with the Republic and UNSC forces

Karrn then gazed upon his forces. He wasn't entirely lost in a sea of machinery; hundreds of fellow Mando'ade were with him. It was a small comfort. In any case, he had enough armor and personnel to repel any assault…or so he thought.

"_Major!" _said one of his men over the comlink, _"The teleporting pads show activity!"_

"How many?" growled Karrn.

"_Four."_

"Four?" That was strange; Karrn had expected a full assault. "Very well then. Target those platforms with artillery."

At the far end of the cavern—over two miles away—four platforms activated. Two Pelicans and two Phantoms wavered into existence…and lifted off right before the CIS artillery fired.

The artillery cleanly missed. The enemy dropships weaved back and forth to throw off the aim of Karrn's triple-A gunners, flying low and fast.

"Looks like today won't be dull after all," said Karrn, pulling out his Mandalorian saber.

000

"Hocus," said Cortana, "clear a path."

"Roger," replied Hocus in the no-flinch-no-fear voice that all navy pilots had. She triggered the Pelican's 70mm cannons and wing-mounted Anvil-II missiles. Droids and tanks shuddered and exploded as the high-caliber rounds and rockets smashed into them. The Mandalorian mercenaries responded, firing shoulder-launched rockets. Hocus and her wingman dodged the unguided missiles and let loose a hail of bullets that took out the rocket specialists.

The Master Chief and Omega Squad jumped out of the Pelican while it was still three meters above the ground. They started firing immediately, taking out AA guns and artillery.

And a lot of droids and mercenaries.

A Mandalorian warrior wielding a saber cut down one of the Elites with the Arbiter. The Arbiter struck back with his energy blade…and to his astonishment, the saber blocked the energy sword.

The warrior said, "It's cortosis alloy. You can't cut it with any energy weapon. Now you'll feel the receiving end."

"I think not," said the Arbiter, nimbly dodging a swing from the warrior. The two settled into a complex duel, and soldiers on both sides left them to it.

The Master Chief fought as if he was fresh from leave and not like a man who had been fighting for nearly three days straight. He punched a Super Battle Droid twice, denting the heavy plates, and finished with a kick. The droid folded like paper, but continued to fire until the Chief stomped on its face. He unlimbered his Spartan Laser and fired a red beam into the engine core of an AA battery. The gun blew up, taking several droids and mercenaries with it.

The Elites' plasma grenades were becoming a blessing. Those droids not within the blast radius of the stickies were disabled by the EMP effect, making them that much easier to kill.

Darman was fighting three Mandalorians at once, hand-to-hand. He had no idea that he was capable of such a feat, but adrenaline did funny things to people. A loud _BOOM! _behind the mercs distracted them for a second, and Darman finished them off with a well-placed grenade. The source of the distraction was Fi destroying the last of the artillery, and another explosion sounded the demise of the last triple-A.

"_Bravo Lead to Charlie Lead," _said the Chief over the COM. _"We're done here."_

"_We have completed our objectives as well," _replied Usze 'Taham. _"Signal the army."_

"_Already done,"_said Cortana. _"Hold on boys; the cavalry's coming."_

000

Karrn was becoming frustrated. The silver-armored Elite was as skilled a sword master as he had ever seen. No matter what he did, he couldn't go on the offensive. The Arbiter was driving him back, not giving Karrn a chance to strike back, until…

Karrn dodged a wild swing from the Arbiter, and saw that the alien's stomach was wide open. "Gotcha." He slashed.

The Arbiter saw his error and jumped back, but the saber cut through his shield and made a long gash. It wasn't fatal, but it made him stagger back a few paces. He glared at his opponent and roared, mandibles wide open.

Karrn was about to give the finishing blow, when he saw the multitude of teleporter platforms activate. Suddenly hundreds of soldiers and vehicles—clone troopers, UNSC soldiers, Elite warriors and tons of armor—appeared. They all charged.

Karrn lowered his saber, astonished at the sheer numbers. It was a fatal mistake.

The Arbiter swung, and a Mandalorian helmet, complete with the owner's head, hit the ground, followed by his body.

000

The Seperatists were overwhelmed. They had fought on till the last man, droid and tank. In the end, however, it was the Allies that had won out.

The Master Chief couldn't recall the last time the UNSC had ever had a numerical advantage, save Sigma Octanus. It was a good feeling. They had won, with little loss.

Usze 'Taham, standing out in his purple armor, nodded at the Chief. "Well done, Spartan."

"Likewise," replied the Chief. He looked at the thirteen fins that were opening like petals. It reminded him heavily of the Ark Portal. "What is that, Cortana?"

"It's a portal," she replied. "I think it's meant to be entered on foot, judging by the fact that the apex of the center hill coincides with the point that the portal should appear."

The fins stopped moving, and there was a flash of light. The portal appeared, a shimmering ball of black nothingness.

"What the fierfek is that?" said Fi.

"Weren't you listening?" said Cortana, her irritation audible. "It's a portal."

"We should go through," said Niner. "Find out what's on the other side."

"Unadvisable," said Cortana. "We don't know what's on the other side."

"That's why we're going to find out," said Niner, becoming irritated himself.

"Hey," said Fi, "since we're all stating the obvious, shouldn't the Chief decide whether we go through or not? Isn't he the tactical commander?"

"We go through," said the Chief, a note of finality in his voice. "Bravo Team will follow me in. Usze 'Taham will set up defenses here. He'll be in command of the army until we get back."

Usze puffed his chest out. "It will be as you say, Spartan. Not one enemy shall pass!"

"Alright then." The Master Chief reloaded his MA5C. "Let's move out."

000

A small group of people stood next to a river that flowed past a small grove of trees. It was an odd assortment: a middle-aged woman in a lab-coat that had seen better days, a Navy non-com in fatigues, and several Spartans in differing suits of armor.

Kelly whispered, "You think John's still out there? I mean alive?"

"Yes," Linda said.

"He has to be," Fred told her. "He's the only one left to stop the Covenant."

"While we're stuck in here." Kelly kicked the grass. "What's your take on the others? Team Saber?"

"They're kids," Fred said. "But so were we once. I think they're Spartans, like us."

Ash trotted up to them, Olivia and Mark trailing behind, hefting packs.

"All ready, sir," Ash said.

"Good." Fred set a hand on Ash's shoulder, and nodded to the others.

"Welcome to Blue, Spartans," Kelly said. "We're going to make a great team."

"Whoa," shouted Senior Chief Petty Officer Mendez. "Strange activity, eleven o'clock!"

The Spartans brought their weapons to bear, moving to shield both Mendez and Dr. Catherine Halsey.

"It's a Slipspace rift," said the Doctor. "It has to be."

The air wavered like a heat wave. The Spartans' HUDs flickered slightly, and they backed off slowly.

The muzzle of an Assault Rifle appeared, followed by a green gauntlet. Then an arm. And finally, an entire Spartan stepped out of thin air, followed by men in black armor…and several Covenant Elites.

"What the hell?" said Mendez. The Spartans thumbed off their safeties.

"Hold your fire!"

The group was so astonished, they lowered their weapons. "That voice," said the Doctor. "It can't be…"

The other Spartan stood straight. "My god," he said. "Fred? Kelly? Doctor Halsey?"

"John?" whispered Fred.

000

Etain watched from the bridge of the Covenant Carrier _Shadow of Intent_ as the Seperatist armada approached. Fleet Master Rtas 'Vadum regarded the enemy with disdain. Commander McDougal had stayed on the _Thermopylae_, and his sentiments reflected those of the Fleet Master.

"Incoming transmission," said an Elite.

"Let us hear it," said 'Vadum.

Etain instantly recognized General Grievous. There was no mistaking him.

"_In the name of the Confederacy of Independent Systems,"_ said Grievous in his terrible voice, _"I demand your surrender!"_

"Vermin," hissed 'Vadum. "We will not surrender."

Grievous laughed. _"I look forward to dismembering you." _The channel went off.

"Fleet Master," said another Elite, "they are preparing weapons!"

"Very well," he said. "All ships, fire at will! Burn their mechanical abominations!"

00000


	10. Chapter 10: Look Ma! Four Hands!

Chapter 10

The Arbiter would never show it—a warrior should never show weakness—but the teleporting cycle had made him feel like his insides were surrounded by plasma. He grunted—the only indication he felt pain—and got to his feet.

The Arbiter's movements had brought the other Spartans out of their stupor, and they raised their weapons in his direction.

"Hold your fire," said Niner. "We're friendlies."

The Spartans did, but they still had the Elites dead in their sights. "Last time we saw Elites," said a Spartan-III, "they were shooting at our commander."

"Situation's changed," said the Master Chief. "The Elites are allies now. Stand down."

Slowly, rifles were lowered. "Damn, Chief," said Fred. "What's going on?"

"It's a long story." The Chief recalled everything that had happened since the Covenant attack on Earth. Eyebrows were raised when the alliance with the Elites was mentioned. They were raised again in astonishment as he told them about the portal underneath New Mombassa, the Ark, and the destruction of the second Installation 04 and its caretaker, 343 Guilty Spark. The story continued with a short explanation of how he was found five years later by the Republic and their fight against the CIS. "Now, the CIS and the Loyalists want this planet. We found the portal that led here, and the army is just outside, protecting us. Our mission is to find an ONI/GAR team sent here earlier, but we haven't been able to find them."

"What about the Flood?" asked Doctor Halsey. "Have they been stopped?"

"Yes ma'am. I believe I told you that already."

Halsey flinched. The only reason that she had lied to Kelly, to Lord Hood, and to everyone else on Onyx was her conclusion regarding Earth and the foes she faced. She had truly believed that the human race could not hold out. Her prize student had proven her wrong; that didn't happen every day. And it was obvious he felt betrayed. "It must have been very hard to finish the fight."

"Yes ma'am. If it weren't for the Arbiter, however, I wouldn't have made it."

Halsey looked at the Elite in gold armor. "You must be the Arbiter that John mentioned."

The Arbiter said nothing, only giving a curt nod. He stared warily at Team Saber's weapons, still held loosely in his direction. Saber and Rapier had made only a brief reunion, quickly returning to the business at hand.

Halsey glanced at them as well. "Why are you set apart from the others?"

The Arbiter shot a look at the Chief; old blood died hard. "I was the Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice until the Spartan destroyed the first sacred ring. I was disgraced, stripped of command and punished, but they did not kill me. Instead, they put me in the role of the Arbiter, a warrior created in difficult times, and sent me on missions which were supposed to finish me. But the gods had different plans set for me. I had my revenge on the Prophets, however. Truth lies dead on the Ark."

"I see. And by rescuing Sergeant Johnson and Commander Keyes, you were able to forge an alliance."

"Yes."

"Doctor?" piped a familiar voice.

"Yes, Cortana?" replied Halsey.

"The Slipspace rift is closing. It's closing slowly, but its closing. We may have only one hour before is closes completely."

"What about Team Katana?" said Ash, Saber Team's leader. "We have no idea how to get them out of these things." He indicated the coffin-like devices hovering over the ground, containing a Spartan III in each.

"There's a Forerunner facility on the other side," said the Master Chief. "With any luck, there'll be something to help you there. In fact, all of you should go there. There are Allied personnel on the other side. They'll help you."

"Master Chief, sir?" said Kelly. "With your permission, I'd like to join you on your mission."

"Same here, sir," said Fred. He had neglected to inform the Master Chief of the field promotion he had received from Kurt; John had always been the leader, and Fred would follow him regardless of rank or protocol.

Linda didn't say anything, but she checked her sniper rifle and the ammo that Omega had lugged along, and stood by the Chief.

Omega Squad, seemingly forgotten, watched the whole thing unfold like a holovid. "What a twist," said Fi.

"Shut up, Fi," said Atin.

"Permission granted," said the Chief. "Team Rapier, accompany Saber, Katana, the Doctor and Chief Mendez to the other side." Rapier's team leader, Ingrid, opened her mouth to protest, but the Chief held his hand up, and she recognized it as a sign meaning she shouldn't question the Chief.

One by one, the S-IIIs and the others went into the rift. Chief Mendez paused to snap a salute before stepping into the portal. Doctor Halsey hesitated, then said, "I would wish you good luck, John. But you seem to make your own luck. Watch him, Cortana."

"Always," replied the AI.

"I'll see you, Doctor," said the Chief.

Halsey disappeared into the rift, and the Chief addressed the still sizable force he had with him: Omega Squad, Blue Team, the Arbiter and his three Elite companions. "Now, we have to determine whether the missing team reached here or not. Sergeant Niner?"

"We're not sure, sir," said Niner, still somewhat awed by the presence of _four _Spartans. "But Atin here says he might have picked up a GAR transponder, about four miles…that way." He had no clue which was north or south here.

"Alright then", said the Chief. "Cortana, mark the position of the rift and the position of that transponder source, and start a countdown timer to the rift closing."

"Done, done, and done Chief," said Cortana. Two NAV markers—one blue, one green—appeared on the HUDs of all. The timer was already at 56:34. It was time to move.

000

"Fleet Master!" shouted the Sangheili warrior to Etain's right. "Boarding parties detected!"

"Direct our warriors to those positions," said 'Vadum. "Ship Master 'Hurav, you will be in command. I shall take care of these ingrates myself." He unclipped a strange-looking hilt from his belt. "Jedi, make yourself useful and follow me."

Etain didn't reply, but clutched both her lightsaber and Master Fulier's in each hand and hurried after the Elite. The vast carrier shuddered around her. 'Vadum's presence gathered an impromptu escort of a few Elites, and they reached the first of the boarding parties in one of the hangars.

Elites exchanged fire with battle droids, Super Battle Droids, and droidekas. The droidekas' rapid-fire blasters quickly wore down the Elites' shields, killing many and forcing others into cover. More and more droids popped out of box-like objects that littered the area amongst the ruins of Phantom dropships and Seraph fighters.

"Fleet Master!" shouted Etain. "Those dispensers have to be destroyed, or else we'll be overwhelmed!"

"Then we shall not waste any more time!" replied 'Vadum. "Warriors! Destroy those dispensers!"

The Elite activated his weapon, and a two-pronged energy sword came to life. Raising the weapon, he charged recklessly into the fray. Etain ignited her lightsabers as well and ran after the battle-mad Fleet Master.

Plasma grenades and fuel rod rounds impacted upon the dispensers as the Fleet Master, his escort and Etain destroyed droid after droid. The droidekas were posing a great threat, until Etain Force-pushed them into the hangar walls. Bereft of their own shields, the droidekas melted under a hail of plasma. The hangar deck was clear, and the remaining boarding parties in the other parts of _Shadow of Intent _were similarly neutralized.

"That," said 'Vadum, panting heavily, "was immensely satifying." He nodded respectfully at Etain. "Well done, Jedi. You fight well."

"Only by necessity," said Etain.

Suddenly, a CIS dropship, trailing fire, flew into the hangar and crash-landed several feet from their positions. Weapons were raised once again, and the charging of the Elite's weapons was like a swarm of wasps.

From the wreckage of the dropship rose a droid with a strange staff. It was followed by three others. Then another figure rose from the smoke. He was made almost entirely of white armor and duranium. His yellow eyes never blinked. His six-digit hands clutched two lightsabers, and his taloned feet dug into the deck.

General Grievous had arrived.

Grievous cackled. "At last, we meet, Covenant scum! I will display your skull proudly amongst those of my other enemies…that is, if you put up enough of a challenge."

'Vadum laughed in his own turn. "You will have no skull to display. I am Rtas 'Vadum, Fleet Master of the First Sangheilian Fleet and one of the best warriors in the Covenant. I have survived humans, parasites and treachery, and I shall survive you." He ignited a second energy blade. Etain stood on his right, very much afraid but unwilling to abandon the brave Fleet Master. Arrayed around them were more Elites, some duel-wielding plasma rifles, some holding their own energy swords.

"Attack!" shouted Grievous. He ignited his two lightsabers and charged, followed closely by his droid bodyguards.

'Vadum ran to meet his charge, shouting "Wort wort wort!" The other Elites answered likewise, shouting battle-cries.

It would be like no battle ever fought before.

00000

**A/N: Long hiatus, I know. School has been nasty lately concerning HW and projects, and family emergencies have butted in as well. I hope you enjoy.**


	11. Chapter 11: Shut up&get behind meSir

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

**1856 hrs, July 19th 2557 (Military Calendar)/**  
**UNSC Navy BBBG-Class Battle Group 'Alpha'**  
**En Route to Unknown System (Location Classified—ONI X-ray directive) **

The Iowa-Class battleship _New Jersey_ (BB-02) was a new class of space-faring warship. Named after the famous US Navy vessel that had served in four major American wars, it was slated to replace the UNSC's aging fleet of Marathon-Class cruisers as secondary flagships (carriers being the first choice for a flag). The _New Jersey _had two MAC guns on either side of her 1,400 meter long superstructure and an even larger one around which the superstructure was built, the second largest MAC in the UNSC arsenal. Besides her massive coil-guns, _New Jersey_ carried a payload of nearly two thousand Long Bow missiles (replacements for the Archers), fourteen Shiva warheads, and two NOVA bombs. As if the designers decided she wasn't powerful enough already, _New Jersey _also had several batteries of turrets, ranging from 50mm CIWS for anti-fighter duties to 95 inch cannons designed specifically to smash Seperatist armor plating to fragments. She also had squadrons of C709 Longsword fighter/bombers and the new FA/S117 Katana air/space superiority fighters. Defenses included a highly sophisticated EM package that could scramble most CIS missiles and the latest jamming software. The CIS Intelligence division scoffed when they heard that there were only seven active Iowa-Class vessels. What they didn't know was that seven Iowas was massive overkill.

_New Jersey_ and her sister ships _Iowa_ (BB-01)and _Missouri _(BB-06) were leading a battle group of seven Marathon-Class cruisers, fourteen Apoc-Class frigates, twelve Gorgon-Class destroyers, six Phoenix-Class super carriers, eight Firefly-Class 'baby' carriers, two Prowler-class stealth vessels and twenty four Roberts-Class corvettes, a fleet of seventy six vessels and one of the largest fleets ever assembled, against a CIS fleet of an undetermined size at a Forerunner planet, ONI codename: Necropolis.

Not too long ago, Admiral Vasily Borodin would have given both of his legs for a chance to place his flag on an Iowa. Now he was sitting in the ultra-new bridge of _New Jersey_, basking in the honor of commanding what was most likely the second-most powerful warship in the Navy. He had been waiting for a chance like this ever since the Iowa line of battleships was proposed in 2554, and now he had it, along with some of the best and brightest in the Navy's officer pool.

"ETA to Necropolis is twenty minutes, sir," said Captain Zachary Eaton, _New Jersey_'s commanding officer.

"Good," said Borodin. "Raise alert status to Combat Alert ALPHA. No point dropping in half-prepared."

Eaton grinned as he gave the order. "Hell sir, I doubt anything the Seps have is good enough to scratch us, let alone cause any significant damage."

"Maybe, but there's no harm in being prepared." Secretly, however, Borodin agreed with Eaton's sentiment. The CIS's most powerful ship, the 1,088 meter long Providence-Class cruiser, was nowhere near the firepower range of the _New Jersey_. And their largest vessel, the 3,170 meter long Lucrehulk control ship, was little more than a glorified cargo hauler; not even an actual warship! No, the CIS would most likely fold like a deck of cards. Borodin hoped they didn't, though; prey that fought back was more fun to kill.

Almost twenty minutes later, Morpheus, the battleship's AI, appeared as a figure made of stars whose eyes were bright blue points. "All vessels are at Combat Alert ALPHA," he replied in a dreamy voice. "Estimated time of arrival is now thirty seconds and counting."

The bridge lights darkened to a red hue, and alarms sounded gently yet audibly throughout the ship. Borodin knew what was happening: All personnel were rushing to battle stations. The _New Jersey_'s Marine contingent was probably in the middle of grabbing their weapons and giving curse-laden pep talks. Navy Air Corps pilots were rushing to their fighters and bombers, weapons were being loaded. The gun batteries' safety locks had disengaged. The rest of the fleet was following suit.

"Exiting Slipspace," said Morpheus, "in five, four, three, two, mark."

There was a sudden deceleration. _New Jersey _had arrived almost a hundred kilometers "east" of the CIS fleet, which was pounding the UNSC and Sangheilian ships that were trying—and failing—to hold a perimeter around what had to be Necropolis. The CIS fleet was far larger than Borodin had expected. There had to be at least a hundred and fifty of them, maybe even more. But the arrival of Battle Group Alpha would distract them for a while, perhaps long enough for the Covenant and UNSC ships around Necropolis to regroup and reform their battered perimeter.

"All vessels," said Borodin clearly, "pick your targets, power up MAC guns and prepare to fire on my mark."

As Captain Eaton relayed the order, the Admiral could see that he had indeed caught the attention of the CIS; several vessels were peeling off the main fleet and powered towards BG Alpha. _Dumb_, he thought. They hadn't encountered a UNSC battleship before. It was time for a formal introduction.

"All guns powered up, sir," said Morpheus.

"Mark!"

"Firing!" shouted Eaton. "MAC rounds away!"

The ferric-tungsten shells, sizes ranging from 600 ton frigate rounds to 1200 ton rounds from the battleships' "Big Ouchie" MAC guns streaked across space at 0.4/10 of the speed of light. The CIS ships, heading right into the salvo, had no chance. The multiple rounds shredded the attackers to bits.

The _New Jersey _moved forward gently as the engines fired a counter-thrust to act against the recoil of her main guns. "Increase to attack speed," said Borodin. "All ships: scatter, pick your targets and go. Fire at will."

Battle Group Alpha abandoned fire discipline, firing as they came on the enemy. The Seperatists, to their credit, did not fold as Borodin had expected them to. This was General Grievous' fleet, and they were better trained than their other comrades.

_New Jersey_, _Iowa_ and _Missouri _fell upon the enemy like wolves on sheep. Their huge guns did awful things to the enemy ships, pounding holes right through their weakened shields. The battleships took hits as well, but they had 10 meters of Titanium-A battleplate, as well as improved shielding, courtesy of ONI Section III. Their furious charge threw the enemy into disarray, and the CIS was forced to let off the pressure on the Covenant/UNSC defenders to deal with the new threat.

Commander McDougal ignored the gash on his forehead as he tried as best as he could to rally the defenders. The unexpected but wholly welcome surprise intervention by Admiral Borodin and his beautiful battleships had given him enough time to reform the task force and the Covenant fleet. Now that the CIS fleet was otherwise occupied, McDougal could redirect his attention to the hundreds of enemy transports descending to the surface.

"Lock on to those bastards and fire away," he said.

"Nothing would please me more," his weapons officer said. Archer missiles, plasma torpedoes, MAC rounds and pinpoint lasers wiped out the invasion force, dotting the horizon with wreckage. As if they were finally winning the tug-of-war-style battle, things had turned to their favor once again.

000

**ERROR! TIME/LOCATION ANOMALY**

There wasn't much time. The HUD timer on the Chief's helmet indicated they had a little over half an hour before the rift closed, and it didn't look like they could open it up again on this side. The good news was, they had finally located their people.

Captain Ordo was dressed in the scarlet livery of his rank, standing tall and straight. Only one other person was there: Lieutenant Commander Randall-148, a Spartan II. The Spartan III team, Bowie Team, had been killed by a Mandalorian ambush. They had taken a lot of the mercenaries with them by exploding a Mk56 Incendiary bomb.

There was no time for recollections or explanations, though: only time for running. Like most people, they could talk as they ran.

Randall, it appeared, had never been lost. He had been kept secret by ONI, as a last line in case the Master Chief ever bought the farm. He was wearing a new variant of the Mk VI armor, what he called 'Recon'. It was new, and only available to a select few individuals, namely Spartan IIs. He immediately relinquished his temporary rank and reverted to Petty Officer, First Class; like Fred, he firmly believed that the Chief was always the true leader.

Captain Ordo, however, behaved in a manner very much unlike the commandos of Omega Squad. He was almost arrogant, at least to the Chief, and was not pleased at all when the Spartan had informed him that he had tactical command over the senior officer. He had not spoken anything other than, "Well, get your shiny _shebse _moving".

The jump through the portal was just in time, it appeared; just as they got through, the rift collapsed. The Chief then had to contend with another problem: that of a lot of droids.

The Chief was directing artillery fire on an enemy position when he felt a gauntlet on his shoulder. It was Captain Ordo. "With respect, sir," said the Spartan, "I'm busy."

"You can shove your respect," said the clone. "I don't give a mott's backside about your 'tactical command'. You do _not _give me orders."

"My orders come directly from NAVSPECWEP," replied the Chief. "You don't have the authority to countermand them. Sir."

"I only obey one man, and that's my father, Kal Skirata."

The Chief ignored the lie about the man being the captain's father; he was a clone, after all. "Then you don't deserve to wear the uniform, sir. Perhaps you can make use of yourself somewhere else." It was a first for the Chief, insulting a superior officer. But this man was not worthy of respect in the Chief's eyes if all he did with his rank was use it when it suited him.

Ordo didn't press the matter. He casually blasted droids along the battle line, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He kept on thinking about what the Chief had said. Maybe it was time for him to shed the uniform. He could become a mercenary like Kal'Buir, with a set of real Mando armor. But then again, he didn't want to abandon his clone brothers in the field who would die without the intelligence he usually gathered. Would it be so bad to obey other officers? Kal was his father. But other soldiers had fathers too, and they obeyed orders when given. He would have to ask Kal later.

The battle was relatively short, although hectic. The Allied lines had held perfectly, and the Chief wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. It was time to leave the Forerunner planet, and the Spartan hoped he would never have to visit another one.

00000

**A/N: I'm afraid that this will be the average length of chapters for a while, boys and girls. On the bright side, more awesome reviews!**

"**Are you licking yourself?!"—stranger in Wal-Mart**

"**Am I getting paid for this?"—Sean Penn**

"**Dude! War Stars is, like totally awesome and cool and…shit, I think I just pissed myself."—Crackhead **

"**Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the store now."—security guy at Wal-Mart**


	12. Chapter 12: Grievous Defeat

A/N: For those of you who didn't catch on, the UNSC Navy's Iowa-Class Battleship line is directly inspired by a line of battleships of the same name that served as far back as WW2 and as recently as the Persian Gulf War

**A/N: For those of you who didn't catch on, the UNSC Navy's Iowa-Class Battleship line is directly inspired by a line of battleships of the same name that served as far back as WW2 and as recently as the Persian Gulf War. In fact, they may be some of the world's longest serving battleships. I believe all Iowa-Class battleships have been decommissioned, sadly. The **_**New Jersey**_**, currently a museum ship docked at Camden NJ (and named after my home state; the only thing we've got going for our state other than the Jersey Shore), has the unique distinction of having the most battle-stars in the US Navy. They were, effectively, the last battleships to serve. But enough history lessons.**

Chapter 12

**2734 hrs, July 19th 2557 (Military Calendar)/**  
**Grand Army of the Republic DDDG-Class Battle Group "Corellia"**  
**Unknown System (Location Classified—ONI X-ray directive) **

Jedi General Arligan Zey tapped his foot impatiently as his fleet of Venator-Class Star Destroyers and their Acclamator II-Class escorts moved into the best positions to slaughter the remaining CIS ships. The large Iowa-Class battleships that his UNSC Navy counterparts had claimed would turn the tide of the war were sweeping through the Seperatists as if it was the easiest thing to do. Clearly, Fleet Admiral John Harper had been correct. Unfortunately, the UNSC wasn't willing to sell the insanely expensive vessels to the Republic, selling only their old vessels like the Halcyon-Class Cruisers and Firefly-Class carriers as defensive assets for planets that couldn't be directly protected by the Republic Navy.

Zey's flagship, _Star Warrior_, fired a volley at a fleeing CIS corvette. The Venator's DBY-827 turrets raked the small vessel until it exploded. It was the twelfth of the Republic's nineteen kills in the Battle of Necropolis, the rest belonging to the combined UNSC/Covenant fleet and Admiral Vasily Borodin's battle group.

"Incoming transmission, sir," said Zey's ARC trooper aide Captain Maze. "It's from _New Jersey_."

Admiral Borodin appeared on the holotank, looking flushed with his victory. _"Nice to see you came on time for dessert."_

"Blame the CIS," said Zey. "They decided it would be nice to turn Kuat into a wasteland. We went to show them otherwise."

Borodin laughed heartily. _"Well then, you're excused." _His face then grew more serious. _"Fleet Master 'Vadum's carrier _Shadow of Intent _is in trouble with some boarders. It doesn't sound good. There is a possibility that General Grievous may be on board."_

"Nothing I can't handle," said Zey, although his thudding heart said otherwise.

"_So said every other Jedi that went up against him. My advice is to take those ARCs of yours with you. I heard they rescued some Jedi from our cyborg friend on Hypori."_

"I'll take you advice, Admiral. May the Force be with you."

"_Uh, yeah. _New Jersey _out." _

Zey pinched the bridge of his nose hard before turning to Maze. "Prep your squad, maximum load-out. We're going in heavy."

000

The Master Chief piloted the Pelican effortlessly out of the atmosphere, preparing to rendezvous with _Thermopylae_. In the passenger area, Omega Squad was listening to Captain Ordo's war stories. Evidently, Fi was a close companion of the Advance Recon Commando. They spoke in a strange guttural language that the Chief could not understand, but they seemed happy. His Spartans were also catching up, although their reunion was not as happy as their friends. The loss of Will and Kurt (twice for the Chief), as well as most of the Spartan-IIIs of Gamma Company, was a hard blow. At the same time, they had managed to find each other, when they had presumed each other lost or dead. Currently, though, they were watching the Chief's mission recordings of all the events they had missed, occasionally saying things like 'How the hell did he get through that many Covenant on his own?'.

The COM beeped, and a message came through: _"All available units, proceed to counter boarding action on Covenant Carrier _Shadow of Intent_."_

000

Rtas 'Vadum was, despite all rational logic, still very much alive. The crafty Elite had opted to stay just beyond Grievous' reach, striking whenever there was an opening—which was not often—while Etain used her Force abilities to prevent Grievous from utilizing his body's more flourishing abilities and also protected the Fleet Master from the Sep leader's MagnaGuards.

Still, 'Vadum's armor was scarred and slashed by Grievous. His shields were one of the main reasons he was still fighting, and they were draining faster than they replenished. Also, 'Vadum was an organic being, and therefore was susceptible to fatigue.

Grievous had no such problems. The Elite's energy swords had cut a diagonal slash across the cyborg's face, and an X marked the place where 'Vadum had tried to slice him in half. But otherwise, he was undamaged. "You fight better than those pesky Jedi," Grievous wheezed, "but you will die, sooner or later."

"Abomination," replied 'Vadum coolly, "Do not waste my time with talk. Or I will cut your tongue out."

Grievous found this so amusing that he just had to pause and laugh…which was what 'Vadum was waiting for. Grievous did not get his guard back up in time, and the General was stabbed in the chest twice. The cyborg did manage to step back, however, and 'Vadum's swords fell short of Grievous' organ synthsac. Howling in rage, he aimed a kick at the Elite, and 'Vadum flew back against a pillar. He slid down, dropped his energy swords, and did not move. The weapons deactivated silently.

Grievous laughed. "Now," he said turning towards Etain, "It is time for me to add one more lightsaber to my collection."

Just then, the ship COM crackled to life, and a voice said, _"Want to try your luck at two?"_

Engines howling, an LAAT/i gunship roared into the hangar bay, flying low. Arligan Zey stood by the open hatch, green lightsaber held aloft.

"Your offer," said Grievous, "is acceptable." He jumped into the air, landed on top of the gunship and stabbed downwards. The lightsaber blade severed the power conduit running along the spine of the ship. The droid general lumped off as the larty crashed onto the deck. No figures emerged from the smoke.

Grievous stood on top of a pile of wreckage that had been a Phantom and roared triumphantly…until the Master Chief's Pelican soared into the bay and hit him head on.

Before the Pelican slammed Grievous into the wall in a remarkable attempt to turn him into what Sergeant Stacker would call 'road pizza', her passengers jumped out. Etain recognized five of them: Ordo and Omega Squad. But what surprised her were the others. It was unmistakable: they were Spartans just like the Chief.

The Master Chief held up a fist, telling his people to stand back. Curiously enough, Ordo obeyed the order. _Have banthas grown wings? _Etain wondered.

Grievous pushed aside the wreckage of the Pelican, eyes smoldering in rage, fixed on the Chief. His arms split, and to Etain's astonishment he held _four _lightsabers. "DIE!!" he shouted, springing at the Spartan.

Coolly, as if he had been waiting for it, the Chief hefted a Spartan Laser, aimed and fired just as Grievous was about to bring down all his lightsabers on the Chief's head. To everyone's surprise, Grievous was still alive, but he was obviously damaged severely; one arm was melted, another sheared off, and the cyborg's whole body steamed with heat. To make matters worse for Grievous, Zey and his ARC squad stepped out of the wreck of the larty, and Maze was _pissed_. He hefted a Z-6 Rotary blaster cannon and fired. Joining him was his entire ARC squad and Randall, who was hefting the Pelican's rear mounted machine gun turret.

Grievous was still fast. He knew he was outmanned and outgunned, and that he had a very urgent appointment somewhere else. Anywhere else. Chased by a stream of blaster bolts, plasma and streams of bullets, he jumped into a Phantom and flew out of the hangar, closely pursued by Banshees.

"Always figured him for a wuss," said Fi.

'Vadum groaned as he picked himself up. "Hmph. All my effort counted for nothing, yet the Spartan can seemingly dispatch him with ease."

"Don't say that," said Etain. "The Master Chief just finished what you started. I've never seen such amazing swordsmanship."

"I am grateful for your praise," said 'Vadum, "and to the Spartans as well. But what of the abomination?"

Zey frowned. "He'll get away. He is a coward. But at least we are all alive…thanks to you, Master Chief." The Chief nodded politely. "But," the Jedi continued, "with his escape, the war will still go on."

The Chief dropped his spent laser and reloaded his MA5C. "Then we'd better get started, sir. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

"Already?" said Niner. "I was hoping for a few days of leave and a nice, hot shower."

"I second that hope," said Atin, "but with the addition of some uj cake."

"And some well-earned sleep," said Darman.

"Yeah," said Fi. "We don't get enough sleep."

The Chief smiled within his visor, recalling a similar conversation between a certain Cpl. Locklear and a hard-core Sergeant. "Sleep when you're dead, soldier." He hefted his rifle over his shoulder. "I won't deny that it's gonna be a hard slog, though."

"Don't worry Chief," said Kelly, swiping her fingers across his faceplate, the Spartan signal for a smile. "Blue Team is with you now."

"We'll be right behind you too, sir," said Niner.

"We owe you," said a familiar voice; the Arbiter had just arrived, "for the survival of our species. We will work off our debt…by going to war at your side."

The Chief stared at them all: Jedi, Spartans, clones, Elites. His heart filled with something he could not identify at first: hope. And a good measure of pride as well. They were soldiers, sworn to do their duty and fulfill them to the best of their abilities, and the Chief knew that they would give it their all.

"Good," he said. "Let's finish this fight."

0000000

_**End**_

**A/N: Too abrupt? Remind you too much of Halo 2's ending? Don't worry, my little duckies. There will be a sequel, and it will be called "Halo: Order 65". Not 66, it is in fact 65. You'll find out later why…or you could check Wookieepedia. Until next time, May the Force be with You.**

**PS: Also, I just found out that two of the actual USN Iowa-Class battleships **_**Iowa **_**and **_**Wisconsin**_** are in the 'mothball' fleet, meaning they can be reactivated at anytime. Boo-yah! Go Navy! Hah! no other ship in the world has guns as bug as an Iowa.**


	13. Sneak Peek

SNEAK PEEK AT THE SEQUEL!!

Preview

**1421 hrs, August 28th 2557 (Military Calendar)/****  
500 Republica, Galactic City  
Coruscant System, Coruscant**

Lieutenant JG Sean Kirkpatrick was one of an army of field agents from Section I, the information gathering branch of the Office of Naval Intelligence. He was relatively new to the job; field agent training had been almost abandoned during the Covenant War, because a human doesn't blend in well amongst aliens that don't even look human. However, on a planet like Coruscant, a human could disappear easily. And Kirkpatrick, dressed up in material normally found in Coruscanti shops and carrying a custom KYD-22 blaster in a nicely hidden shoulder holster, seemed to be just like any other Coruscanti native minding his own business. Of course, he was no ordinary citizen.

The KYD was actually a silent and deadly Verpine pistol modified to look like a KYD. As the clone troopers and CSF (Coruscant Security Force) officers patrolled the area, an ONI AI searched for any image of Kirkpatrick and erased it from the recording devices' memories, both from the officers' and troopers' HUDs and the numerous cameras placed all over the city. A special addition to his gadgets was a device that emitted a field similar to the ysalamiri creatures from Myrkr, creatures that repelled the Force. Kirkpatrick was essentially invisible to both normal beings and Force-users, which would enable him to carry out the main part of his mission: reconnaissance of the office and living quarters of Chancellor Palpatine, leader of the Republic.

Kirkpatrick didn't know why he was doing this, and he was encouraged by his superiors to keep it that way. But he had a shrewd idea. Although the war was going extremely well, Palpatine refused to acknowledge that it was high time to offer the CIS leadership some surrender options, and insisted on dragging the whole thing out until the Seperatists were totally defeated. "Unconditional surrender, or nothing," he had said. It was strange behavior for a man reputed to be both pragmatic and open to advice. Also, the 'accidental' death of the former Chancellor, Valorum, was fishy. This and other minute observations, most interesting of which was his 'friendship' with Jedi General Anakin Skywalker, had finally convinced the ONI brass that something was definitely out of place.

Kirkpatrick easily gained access to the Chancellor's office. The man was abroad, giving victory speeches at some damned hell-hole or another, and he wouldn't be back for another week. The ONI agent had all the time he needed to reconnoiter.

It looked like the typical office of a multi-millionaire, filled with priceless artifacts. The carpet was blood-red; ironic, considering the amount of blood shed by the Chancellor's policies. The office had a wide window overlooking much of the expanse of the planet-city, and immediately below was a landing pad. It struck Kirkpatrick as too convenient for any assassin; simply shoot the Chancellor, jump out the window, get picked up by his partner and escape.

_Or maybe_, he thought, _it's for the Chancellor's escape. But how would an old raisin like him handle jumping out a window?_

Mind back on the job, Kirkpatrick checked everything in the computers, but found nothing. Frustrated, he flicked absent-mindedly at a black obelisk on the edge of the table.

To his horror, the object teetered and fell. Thankfully, the soft carpet eliminated any sound, and the obelisk was fine. But it was the object that had fallen out of a secret opening in the obelisk that caught his attention.

Kirkpatrick had seen enough lightsabers to recognize one by sight. This gold-plated hilt he was holding in his hands was definitely one. Praising God for his luck—and the fact he had remembered to put on his gloves—Kirkpatrick pressed the emitter button. What he saw next shocked the agent so much that he nearly dropped the thing.

Instead of the usual green or blue, or even the less-seen purple and yellow blades normally carried by Jedi, this blade glowed crimson-red. Kirkpatrick knew enough of Jedi history and seen enough of Count Dooku in action that he knew this was a Sith blade. Why, then, was this thing in the office of the Chancellor?

Kirkpatrick quickly put the lightsaber where it had been before, and even placed the obelisk back in its original position so that no one would know he had been there. He left quickly, avoiding guards and patrols, all the way back to a ship that would take him to a point in deep space where the ONI mega-prowler _Point of No Return_ waited.

Chancellor Palpatine returned a week later, secretly savoring the revenge against the Jedi that would soon be his, not noticing the subtle changes in the Force that were even now shifting around. His overconfidence was his weakness; his enemies would soon know his plan, and there was nothing he could do about it.


End file.
